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FREAKS 

J- AND J^ 

FANCIES. 

I 893- I 900 



THE LIBRARY mf 
G«!NGReSS, 

Two CoHieb ReCE'VEB 

APR. 29 1902 

COPVRI«KT EHTRV 

CLAS8 O^XXo. No. 
COPY B. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, 

in the year 1902, 

By Victor Hammand, of Lima, Ohio, 

In the Office of the Librarian of 

Congress, 

Washington, D, C. 



In Explanation. 

No aim, ohject, or moral is intended to be attached 
to the contents of this booh. The poems, if so they may 
be called, are simply results of some of the iinpressions 
produced by the peculiar phenomenon of coming in con- 
tact loith this tragi-comic world. 

The only excuse offered for the existence of the booh 
is — that the writing of it afforded a certain measure of 
gratification to a few persons — the author included. 
For this reason, if for no other, it has already fulHUed 
its purpose. In case the reader is inclined to criticise^ 
he has, undoubtedly, ample grounds herein for all sorts, 
sizes, and styles of criticism — also the author's assur- 
ance that no exceptions will be tahen to the same. 

VICTOR HAMMOND. 

Oct. 25th, 1900. 



Introduction. 

My Muse is a gypsy, and she sings 

Her gypsy songs in her own tvild tvay; 

Careless of aught that men way say 

Of her ill-tuned harp with its tattered strings, 

Of her uncouth garb and half-dipt wings. 

Of her notes of grief and' vagary; 

She seeks no laurel — no wreath of hay — 

Sut rest for a time from> her wanderings. 

For, long has she roamed the barren skies. 
Hoping a hey of Heaven to gain, 
Questioning Life — with his mysteries. 
And Death — ivith his secret, all in vain; 
Pardon the measures, devoid of art, 
That soothe the grief of a gypsy heart. 



The Enigma. 

From out the shadows of eternal past, 

From endless change and counter-change of matter — 

One tiny odd result of never-ceasing forces, 

Has come this earth-life — sad, unsought, and weary. 

Oh, strange result of blind and senseless matter — 
To stumble on this mad caprice named "Man" ! — 
Who, when he seeks, finds but his nothingness. 
And sees his fettered wondering reason flutter 
And fall before things which it cannot understand ; 

Like the bewildered motion of a bat of evening 
Dizzily groping in the noonday light, 
Amazed to find how little he is seeing. 
And finding in excess of sun — the night. 

And, tho' Life's compound has about it, something 
We feel is good and cannot cast away, 
Yet, who at times can help, in secret, wishing 
That kind Oblivion might have reigned alway? 



b FREAKS AND FANCIES 

The Stumbling-block of Logic. 

(Pointed out at the request of the ladies of the Sorosis.) 

There is whirling thro' space a mysterious star — 
In sunshine and shadow a wonderful star ; 
While all round about it, we know not how far, 
There are skies that are cloudy and skies that are blue, 
Where nightly, more mystical stars come in view 
By hundreds and thousands ; 'tis said to be true 
That, if it were possible here, to endeavor 
To number them all (seen and unseen) — we never 
Would find the sum total — tho' counting forever. 

For if you and I were to travel afar 

From this wonderful star — this bewildering star — 

With nothing unpleasant our journey to mar, 

But straight-forward on with the firmest decision. 

And planning our course with the nicest precision — 

So that there might be no disastrous collision 

With planet or sun ; even tho' we should go 

With the swiftness of light, which is surely not slow — 

Say a million of miles in a second or so — 

If, onward thro' space at this rate we should tear, 

And Death did not stop us to take up our fare, 

We never would really get anywhere. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 



For, after a journey of millions of years, 

Amidst labyrinthian systems of spheres, 

(Tis the weirdest of statements but true), it appears 

That all round about us would still be the blue 

Of infinite space with the stars looking through ; 

'Tis a very l)ewildering thing to review — 

That just as much farther again we might travel 

And not any part of the myst'ry unravel ; 

For, search as we may o'er the new roads we travel 

In this vexatious Universe, high long and wide, 

We cannot get out — for there is no outside — 

But are penned in forever, let what will betide. 

Borne swiftly along on this curious star 

Are the creatures of life — such a magical star ! — 

We mortals among them, but just what we are — 

Tho' we ponder it learnedly, fondly, and well, 

Not even Sorosis is able to tell ; 

We each are a problem no mortal can quell. 

Besides, whence we came, and whereto we are going, 

Why here we should journey, and what we are doing. 

Is easy the asking but harder the knowing ; 

No mortal among us can settle the question. 

The wisest give only defective suggestion — 

And views must depend after all — on digestion. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 



So ladies, if ever your minds you direct 

To these tangles about us, and boldly dissect 

The ''how" and the' 'why, ' 'you should be circumspect ; 

For, tho' your deductions are based upon truth 

And loftily built by wit, wisdom and youth, 

The following fact seems correct tho' uncouth : 

No flatvless solution of life and the Oiver 

Is known to the creature possessing a liver, 

Aliho' he should reason forever and ever. 



So Soon. 



The gray of early dawn — the birds — and then the sun, 
To you, my love I come, for soon the day is done. 
To you, my love I come, for soon the sun is gone, 
So soon my love, so soon, the dark night cometh on — 
So soon we sleep. 

A song of early morn — a greeting — and a kiss. 
To you my love I come — the queen of all my bliss. 
To you my love I come, to sadly whisper this : 
So soon my love, so soon, each may the other miss — 
So soon we die. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 9 

Thrice Blest. 

Blest is the mortal, who, amid the strife, 

The folly and the woe of humankind, 

The unsolved riddles that perplex the mind, 

Saith : ''My faith is stronger than the trials of life." 

Blest is the mortal, who, with lifted eyes 

Gazing into the depths of Heaven's face — 

That thrice-bound mystery of stars, and time, and space, 

Saith : "My faith is stronger than mysterious skies." 

Blest is the mortal, who, with failing breath. 

Launches his soul upon the shadowy sea 

To seek the unknown shores of destiny. 

Saying : ' 'My faith is stronger than the fear of death. ' ' 



10 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

The Lament of the Golden Rod. 

In August days 

The glowing ra3^s 
Came gliding, dancing, from the sun ; 

With laughing gleams 

The rosy beams 
Whispered tlie love of the glov^^ing sun ; 

So fond, so true, 

The love-beams grew, 
I gave my heart to the golden sun ; 

With trusting breast 

I decked my crest 
Witli love-beams from the golden sun. 



November's here 
So dark and drear 

And far away is the fickle sun ; 
In sad array 
Of brown and grey 

I mourn the falseness of the sun ; 
'Mid ice and snow 
To death I go. 

But what cares he — the cruel sun ; 
In distant bowers 
To foolish flowers 

He whispers love — Oh, heartless sun ! 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 11 

Sweethearts. 

Two pairs of eyes look into mine — 

One pair of changeful blue, 

Of hues that deepen in the sea — 

Those dream-e_yes, soft and true ; 

They tell me as no words would tell : 

''My love is all for you ;" 

How sweet to win a maiden's love — 

A maid of summers two. 

Two pairs of eyes look into mine — 

One pair so blackly bright 

They seem to search my inmost soul — 

Those eyes of deepest night ; 

They too are saying : ''I love you — 

Each day I love you more ;" 

How sweet to win a maiden's love — 

A maid of summers four. 



12 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

The Song of the Atom. 

Forever I roam, 

Forever I roam, 

All time is before me, 

All space is my home. 
Dame Nature, my mistress, is constantly striving 
To please her odd fancy, revising, contriving ; 
Dissatisfied always with her latest model, 
Which ever gives way to new plans in her noddle ; 

She uses me here, 

She uses me there. 

In solid, in liquid, 

In sunshine, in air; 
Sometimes in a dew-drop enfolded I glitter, 
Sometimes in a tear of unliappiness bitter, 
Sometimes in a roseleaf I nestle in blushes, 
Or with pestilence stalk o'er the marshes and rushes. 

Unceasing, untiring, 

Forever I roam, 

All time is before me, 

All space is my home. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 13 

Forever I roam, 

Forever I roam, 

Far stranger than journey 

Of fairy or gnome ; 
For time is eternal and change is immortal ; 
From furthermore space to each sun's golden portal 
New labors await me, new planets are forming, 
New types are beginning, new life forms are coming 

To struggle with life, 

To be conquered by death ; 

Ah, woe to the creatures 

Afflicted with breath ! 
Sometimes on the earth with mankind as I travel 
I note his sad tossing between good and evil ; 
Aye, hard are the lessons and stern is the teaching — 
Experience never wastes words in his preaching. 

Unceasing, untiring, 

Forever I roam. 

Far stranger than journey 

Of fairy or gnome. 



14 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Forever I roam, 

Forever I roam, 

My mission a secret 

In Heaven's high dome ; 
For what knows the atom of God — the great Total? — 
His secrets are not for the atom and mortal. 
Altho' without rest I am ceaselessly driven, 
In Nature's mad pranks being constantly given 

From life-form to life-form. 

Thro' all I still trust 

That the aim is perfection. 

The mission is just ; 
Yet oft am I sad from the struggle and toiling, 
The lives that seem useless, the striving and moiling, 
The joy and the sorrow of living and dying, 
The hopes that are blasted, the sadness, the sighing, 

Thro' the ponderous Universe 

Onward I roam, 

My mission a secret 

In Heaven's high dome. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 15 

The Loss of Summer. 

Hearken to the night-wind sighing 

In the branches of the pine ; 

She is fled — bewitching Summer — 

Crowned with blossom leaf and vine. 

While she reigned, the fields were ringing 

With the laughter and the singing 

Of the birds and children mingling 

In a melody divine. 

Queen of beauty, queen of flowers, 

Bright with dew and fragrant shov/ers ! 

Hush — the wind is sadly sighing 

In the branches of the pine ; 

She is fled — bewitching Summer, 

Crowned with blossom, leaf and vine. 



16 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

In her stead the tyrant Winter 
Rules with iron-sceptered sway ; 
While the birds, the leaves and flowers 
Have with Summer gone away ; 
We again may see them — never — 
You and I may pass forever 
Far beyond the shadowed river, 
Deep in death's chill mystery. 
Leaden-gray the clouds are flying. 
Brown and sere the dead leaves lying ; 
Hush — the wind is sadly sighing 
In the branches of the pine ; 
She is fled — bewitching Summer — 
Crowned with blossom leaf and vine. 



BREAKS AND FANCIES 17 

Two Cities. 

In the valley, in the sunshine, 
Lies a mighty city, rife 
With unceasing din and turmoil. 
Thronged with eager restless Life. 
See the crowds down in the valley 
Pressing thro' each street and alley. 
What a mystery — this city 

Filled with strife ! 

On the hillside, in the shadow, 

Lies another city, dressed 

All in wdiite and green, while quiet 

Reigns o'er every sleeper's breast ; 

Here is ended all the hurry, 

All the tumult, all the worry ; 

What a mystery — this city 

Filled with rest ! 



18 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Outline for an Orthodox Sermon. 

Text — ''Hear counsel and receive instruction that 
tliou mayst be wise in the latter end." Prov : 
XIX : 20. 



We knoAv just how this earth was made, 
We know just when it was begun, 
We know precisely what God said 
As He commenced, as He was done. 

We know just why we all are here, 
The way to Hell — the way to Heaven ; 
And if mankind won't go our way. 
Why then they should of course be driven. 

For those who with us disagree 
We have a holy high disgust ; 
(No, pity is the word we use) 
And henceforth we sincerely trust — 

That all who enter here to-night 
Will strive to reach our Heaven fair ; 
But you must travel o'er our route 
Or we know you will not be there. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 19 

And, should you grace the frying-pan, 
We trust sometime you will repent. 
And then, perchance, our God will be 
Less savage and more lenient. 

Pray may the Heavenly Father spare 
From rheumatism, Deacon Jones, 
And banish the bacteria 
That build their homes among his bones. 

And spare — oh, spare our brother Smith ! 
Drive indigestion far away — 
Lift up the burden he has borne 
Since dinner on Thanksgiving-day. 

And brethren, we must all beseech 
Our God a faithful watch to keep, 
For otherwise, He may forget 
And stop to play, or go to sleep. 

May He be ever a success. 
Using us well on earth, and when 
We leave may we roost near the throne 
And have a pair of wings. Amen. 



20 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Faith. 

Silently fall the blossoms of snow 
From the meadows of gray above ; 
Down on the cold earth, naked and brown, 
Cresting the hills with a jeweled crown. 
Draping the fields in a robe of down 
From the meadows of gray above ; 
Over Earth's mourning- weeds of brown 
A robe from the meadows above. 

Silently fall the blossoms of faith 
From a Love that is more than love ; 
Down on the mortal, troubled and worn. 
Soothing the spirit from loss overborne, 
Soothing the grief of those who mourn — 
The blossoms of faith born of Love ; 
Draping the sorrows of those who mourn 
With blossoms of faith born of Love. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 21 

A Song of the Sunset-Sea. 

I found a boat — a bonnie boat 
Afloat on the Sunset-Sea, 
And in the boat was a beautiful lass 
Waiting and watching for me — 
Waiting and watching for me to pass 
Near the bonnie boat on the sea. 

Then hoisting a sail — a silvery sail 

In this boat of the Sunset-Sea — 

O'er the golden track of the setting sun, 

On and on till the day was done 

And the stars came twinkling one by one, 

We flew o'er the Sunset-Sea, 

With the beautiful lass in the bonnie boat — 

I sailed o'er the Sunset-Sea. 



22 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Away to a cloud — a crimson cloud — 

An isle of the Sunset-Sea, 

Where the Beautiful reigned, Avhere sorrow and care 

And all the ills we mortals bear 

Were yet unknown ; to this islet rare 

We sailed o'er the star-lit sea ; 

With the beautiful lass in the bonnie boat — 

I sailed o'er the Sun set- Sea. 

There I awoke, then vanished the boat — 
The boat and the Sunset-Sea ; 
And vanished with them the beautiful lass. 
Without a farewell away did she pass, 
And faded the cloud-built isle ; alas, 
'Twas a dream that had come to me ! — 
Only a dream — the bonnie boat 
And the sail o'er the Sunset- Sea. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 23 

The Jewel of Truth. 

Fresh from the mighty Master-mind of Heaven 

A seraph lightl}^ floated to the earth, 

And, poised above the striving muUitude, 

Threw down amongst the crovfd a precious gem — 

One of the jewels from the sacred crown 

Worn by the Goddess of Immortal Truth. 

The jewel roiled along the city-street. 

Was cast by hurrying feet from place to place, 

While thousands glanced down at it in the dust 

And never knew its priceless worth nor saw 

The hidden radiance. The shallow gaze 

Of men perceived not, the}^ supposed it but 

A dull unsightly pebble of the dust. 



24 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

One day a Dreamer, passing with the throng, 

Beheld its beauty. Raising it aloft 

He cried : ''Behold, my brothers, what I find — 

A radiant gem cast from the crown of Truth !" 

Men looked, then sneered, or silent shook their heads ; 

They saw a pebble, dull and roughly shaped. 

Again the Dreamer cried : ''A precious gem 

Cast from the sacred crown of mighty Truth ! — 

Brothers, this jewel is a talisman 

To raise us high above our many woes." 

And thus he prated till the multitudes 

In stupid anger scourged him from their sight. 

Loaded his name with scorn and contumely ; 

And Mockery kept watch above his tomb. 



Years pass, and men have gained a purer height 

Their eyes grown clearer see the starr}^ gem 

And glory in its beauty. There, where once 

Was but a lone and long-neglected grave, 

Towers the column of a monument ; 

While, o'er the Dreamer's bones, the little men 

That never see the jewel of to-day, 

Speak whispered words of awe and reverence ; 

So — truths are slowly borne into the world. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 25 

The Mortal. 

With dimples, with sweetness, with tiny pink toes, 

A spirit as light as the soul of a rose, 

With brow all unclouded, so trustful and true, 

With eyes widely opened at wonders they view, 

A wee rosy mouth, and a tiny snub nose, 

A body encased in a tangle of clothes, 

With gurgling and chatter of Baby-hood-land — 

That wonderful language that all understand, 

With the light patter-patter of feet on the stair — 

So journeys the mortal to life's joy and care. 

With time-furrowed features, with travel- stained feet, 
A spirit o'erburdened with life's bitter-sweet, 
With brow lined and chiseled by grim circumstance. 
The body bowed downward hj struggles with chance. 
With heart grown aweary from stories of woe, 
With e^^es where lurk visions of scenes long ago, 
A prayer for the future, a sigh for the past — 
Bo, out of life's struggle, the mortal is cast. 



26 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

I Wonder Why. 

Each flower that blooms with fragrant breath 

Blooms but to die ; 
All happiness is incomplete 

And ends — a sigh ; 
No hope so bright but doubt will reign, 
No change but mingles loss with gain, 
No pleasure but will fade for pain ; 

I wonder why. 

No summer sun but somewhere pales 

In winter's sky ; 
No rainbow's jewel but is set 

'Mid storm-clouds high ; 
When knowledge comes, 'tis but to show 
How little we poor mortals know 
As blindly on our way we go ; 

I wonder why. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 27 

No truth but struggles fiercely with 

Some subtle lie ; 
No true-love knot so firm but time 

Will it untie ; 
A myster}'- the stars overhead, 
A mystery the earth we tread, 
A mystery reigns o'er the dead ; 

I wonder why. 

Is such a lot to be our fate 

For aye and aye? 
Will coming time ne'er answer this 

Sad human cry? 
Shall we not know sometime, somewhere, 
The use in sorrow, pain, and care, 
And cease to doubt, to mourn, to fear 

And wonder why? 



28 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Theological Research. 

(Being the true history of one practical but unsuccessful investigation.) 

"Say, will you tell me, who is God 

The min'ster talks about? 

I've thought and thought all by myself 

And cannot think it out ; 

For every Sunday at the church, 

Just when the singing's done, 

We all look down upon the floor, 

(It is the nicest fun) 

And the min'ster looks up in the roof 

And talks up to some one 

That he calls God or else the Lord. 

'Tis a pity God isn't there. 

The min'ster sa^^s such lovely things 

To Him in every prayer. 

And do please tell me, ivliere is God 

The min'ster talks about? 

I've thought and thought all by myself 

And cannot think it out." 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 29 

She stood with eager eyes and upturned face 
Asking the questions that are asked in vain 
By sage and seer of every time and race — 
Expecting me to make the matter plain. 
"Please tell me — won't you? — for I know you can, 
You know most everj^body in the town, 
So tell me who God is and where He lives — 
Why do you shake your head at me and frown?" 

Who could resist a pleading such as this 
From lips and eyes of an adoring miss? — 
'Twas not within the power of mortal man, 
So, groping lamely, I this wise began : 
"We cannot hnow, my dear, but this we feel : 
That He is everywhere ; the thunder's peal. 
The lightning's flash, the cradle and the bier. 
The earth, the stars and all things, far or near, 
Our very selves — our hope, our joy, our fear, 
Are parts of God, for He is everywhere." 



80 TEEAKS AND FANCIES 

''His voice is borne on every breeze, 

O'er desert plains, o'er leafy leas, 

O'er all the lands, o'er all the seas. 

My bonnie little lass ; 

We see Him where the tempest lowers 

In wintry snows and summer showers. 

In giant trees and tiny flowers, 

We see Him in the grass ; 

In everything afar or near, 

For God is always everywhere." 

She listened with her head inclined 
So wisely and her childish mind 
Striving to grasp my words in vain — 
Vague words — so halting dull and blind — 
Poor wayward children of the brain, 
Perplexing, where we would make plain. 
Confusing, where we would explain. 

''He's in the grass ! Did you say in the grass?" 
"Yes, dear. He is in all things everywhere. 
The grass, the trees, the stars, the birds, the flowers- 
In all, afar and near." 



FKEAKS AND FANCIES 31 

Next day, tlie little maiden, on the lawn, 
Down on her hands and knees, with anxious face. 
Went peering o'er and o'er the strip of green — 
Searching in every place. 

"Tell me, that I may help you ; what is lost?" 
But, seeing me, she rose in solemn mood. 
And, walking slowly till she reached my side. 
Pondering deeply, stood. 

''We were mistaken, some way, about God ; 

You said He's in the grass and everywhere ; 

I've looked all day so careful o'er the lawn, 

I guess He isn't there. 

I found the ants and all the little bugs, 

I searched the vine that climbs along the walls ; 

I guess to-day that God was not at home. 

Perhaps He's making calls." 



So we — the larger children — likewise grope 
And search as did this small inquiring lass, 
Looking with eyes that see, yet cannot see, 
For God down in the grass. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Eternity. 

We live, we die, a passing throng 

Of fragile forms with fleeting breath ; 

We liave our day and turn away 

Into the secret walks of Death ; 

But men may come as men have gone, 

The gray-beard — Father Time — lives on. 

The sun will crumble in his course, 
And orbs will shine now lost in night ; 
Each twinkling star in space afar 
Will in new orbits take its flight ; 
But suns may come as suns have gone, 
The gray-beard — Father Time — lives on. 

The New will fade into the Old, 

And types and systems hold their sway. 

As restless Change shall re-arrange 

The Universe in strange array ; 

But all may come as all has gone, 

The gray-beard — Father Time — lives on. 



TEEAKS AND FANCIES 66 

The Fate of Beauty* 

A wild rose grew by a mossy wall — 
A radiant beauty of summer-time ; 
Perfect in blossom leaf and stem, 
Softer in tint than the fairest gem, 
Bearing a perfume half divine ; 
Perchance a God from the golden clime 
Of Elysian Fields, on an earthly call, 
Had left the rose by the mossy wall. 

Hark to the tempest's sullen might ! 
The wild-rose rare — the wild-rose fair — 
Was crushed and soiled in the angry night. 

A sweet child strayed over hill and dale 
Filled with the joy of the summer-time ; 
Innocence dwelt in her dreamy eyes 
Deep with the light of summer skies, 
Something she seemed that was half divine ; 
Perchance she had strayed from the happy clime 
Of an angel-realm to this troubled vale. 
Losing her way o'er hill and dale. 

Hark to the din of hurrying feet ! 
The child so rare — the child so fair — 
Was crushed and soiled in the city street. 



34 FUEAKS AND FANCIES 

Birth. 

Thro' the byways, far and dim, 
Goes a band of Seraphim 
Gaily o'er the way along- 
Caroling an ancient song : 

" We — the soldiers sivorn of Fate- 
Ever hasten to obey; 
Onward to the Cypress Gate — 
Be it early — he it late — 
Onward to the Cypress Gate 
Caroling our ancient lay."" 

In their midst a captive borne, 
Quiet — wondering — forlorn, — 
Stolen from a gladsome clime 
Far away from Space and Time,- 
Stolen from a mystic land 
Pillaged by this elfin band — 
By this elfin cavalcade 
In some madcap midnight raid. 
Quiet — wondering — forlorn — 
In their midst a captive borne. 



I'REAKS AND FANCIES 35 

Now they pause — for, tliro the gloom, 
Ghostty sad and silent, loom 
Contours of the Cypress Gate 
Guarded by the Sons of Fate. 

''Who goes there?" the Echoes sigh ; 
Straightway comes the elfin cry : 
"We — and with us, captive-borne. 
One who seeks the Hope of Morn, — 
Captive from a region far — 
Far beyond the utmost star. 
Open wide the Cypress Gate — 
Open— faithful Sons of Fate." 

Now — behold ! — the gate is thrown 
Open wide and — cold — alone — 
Out to battle with the Dust, 
Fiercely is the captive thrust — 
Out into this troubled land 
That no man can understand. 

Caroling an ancient lay, 
Gaily madly o'er the way 
Goes the troop of Seraphim 
Thro' the byways far and dim. 



86 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

The Temptation. 

Eternal struggle ! — Who is there to know 
Its cause or sequence? Hearken! — See again 
Two ancient enemies surge to and fro 
In sullen conflict — striving, each to win. 

No banners floating high, nor dust, nor din, 
Nor heralds to proclaim each wary foe. 
No trace of charger squire or paladin. 
Yet swift and subtle falls the silent blow. 

They struggle — one for Weal and one for Woe- 
Grim ancient enemies — they meet again ! 
Their battle ground a human form — and lo ! 
The prize of victory — the soul within. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 37 

Immortality. 

We ever live — thus do we ever learn. 

With toil we slowly climb from thought to thought 

Along the endless corridors of space. 

Perplexed at times, we pause, for we behold 

A maze of dark unfathomed mystery ; 

Then the young mind, untaught and all untried, 

Shudderingly cries out : '^0 ! what is this?" — 

And echo only answers: ''What is this?" 

The WJiat-lias-been is half of the All-is, 

The other half whereof is Wliat-tvill-he; 

Each soul (a part of seeming mystery) 

Journeys forever o'er this upward course ; 

And sometime, somewhere, from an unseen height. 

We shall behold the apparent aimless way, 

That seems a path in everlasting night, 

Gleam with the rosy flush of breaking day. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 

A Soliloquy, 

Why should I heed dismay or sorrow? 
Woes come to-day — and fly to-morrow ; 
Aye, life itself, is but a breath, 
And, when we pass the pale of death. 
Who knows but we, in looking back 
Upon our erring earthly track, 
May see our lives as he who smiles 
O'er memor}' of some early day, 
When fleeting smiles and fleeting tears 
Were mixed wdth fleeting hopes and fears, 
And childish task with childish play. 

Why should I fame or riches borrow 

To hold to-day — to lose to-morrow? 

The laurel wreath the victor grasps 

Soon fades as does the brow it clasps ; 

The sweetest song, the deed sublime. 

Re-echoing, die in endless time ; 

And riches may, in years to come. 

Appear as does the gilded to}^ 

That won our hearts wdth sparkling gleams, 

That glittered in our childish dreams. 

That filled our childish minds with joy. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Then come what will — delight or sorrow, 

'Tis jo}^ to-day and grief to-morrow ; 

With little heed our thoughts are cast 

To that eternity — the Past ; 

Why with more anxious gaze should we 

Peer deep into Futurity? 

Aye, we are weak, our sight is dim, 

Our puny thoughts are lightly traced, 

So lightly traced in shifting sand — 

Life's fateful ever-changing strand. 

Where all that is, is soon effaced. 

The Heritage. 

To sing of life, of love, of death — 
To feel the fulness of them all, 
To trace the faint uncertain call 
That wanders from the lips of Faith, 
To loiter near the silent gate 
Where hides the face of Mystery, 
To flaunt the dreams of Theory 
Before the scornful eyes of Fate — 

Such is the poet's heritage 
And these the tasks wise Heaven sends 
That Progress still may have her friends 
In every land — in every age. 



39 



40 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Two Voyagers. 

All lieedless of the tossing roaring flood, 
That foams and frets within the narrow gorge 
'Twixt Birth and Death, he trimmed his fragile bark, 
And with no look to left or right, where loom 
The barren crags of How and Where and Why, 
With steadfast gaze that saw or seemed to see 
A quiet harbor bathed in peaceful light, 
He crossed the angry gulf and disappeared 
Among the shadows of the unknown sea. 

Another ^^aused to view the murky waste, 

To mark the curious eddies in the flood ; 

He sought to fathom its perplexities, 

To sound the depths, and mete the sullen force ; 

He tried to scale those bleak and slippery crags 

Where gather veils of dense low-hanging cloud ; 

Again and yet again he clambered up. 

Only to fall more bruised and sick at heart. 

His bark was wrecked and in the deepening gloom 

He bowed his head, nor heeded where the drift 

Should bear his sailless hulk — yet soon he crossed, 

And fell o'er both, the shadows of the sea. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 



41 



What do the waves — the little waves say, 

Chasing each other so merrily? 

With sunshine and shadow eA^er at play, 

Chasing each other so merrily ; 

Crested and crowaied with glittering spray, 

Their white caps flashing afar o'er the bay 

With jewels of white, with jewels of light, 

Chasing each other so merrily. 

The little waves whisper — here at my feet — 
Chasing each other so merrily. 
Whisper their voices, softly and svreet, 
Chasing each other so merrily : 
'^The storm may buffet, the storm may beat. 
To-morrow, again in the harbor we meet. 
The clouds pass away, the sunbeams will play. 
Chasing us, chasing us merrily." 



42 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Within. 

'^Near is as near to God as any Far, 

And Here is just the same deceit as There." 

Le bon Richard. 

It seems, in some still far-oiT glen, 
Where winds a crystal mountain-stream, 
Where, draped in snow-white purity. 
The mountains high in heaven gleam. 
That there the weary Soul would find 
The harmony for which she sighs ; 
Ah, could we go, my love, and heal 
Our wounds, our woes, our blinded eyes ! 
A sad Voice whispers: ''No, not there — 
No spot on earth is free from care." 

It seems, in that great dome above, 
Where, twinkling in unbounded space 
The silent stars are looking down 
Upon this noisy ill-kept place, 
That there the weary Soul would find 
The harmony for which she sighs ; 
Ah, could we go, my love, and heal 
Our wounds, our woes, our blinded eyes ! 
The Voice replies : ''No child, not there — 
No star above is free from care." 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 

It seems that somewhere — near or far 
In unknown climes, are unknown lands ; 
Perchance, beyond some mist-veiled sea, 
A happy isle with golden sands 
Lies hidden, where the Soul may find 
The harmony for which she sighs ; 
Ah, could we go, my love, and heal 
Our wounds, our v/oes, our blinded eyes ! 
Again the Voice : "Search everywhere. 
There is no Place but has its care." 

Then said the Voice : ''Look to thy Soul ; 

Learn well the lesson of to-da}^, 

That, as the years to ages roll, 

The essence, sleeping in the clay 

Thou callest thine, may bud and bloom 

To somewhere crown a perfect flower ; 

From days of toil and nights of gloom 

Is born, at last, a happy hour ; 

Look to thy Soul, for only there 

Doth hide the charm to banish care." 



43 



44 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

A Wheel of Fortune. 

A wheel of fortune, bhie and green, 
A mighty wheel of sea and land, 
Forever turned by a mighty hand — 
A mighty hand, unknoAvn — unseen — 
By the throng that plays on the blue and green- 
A jangling motley band. 

Winners and losers, side by side ; 
Some playing with fantastic greed. 
Some listlessly — with little heed. 
Some trampled b}^ the human tide ; 
Winners and losers, side by side, 
Careless of tliouaht and deed. 

Numerous prizes deck the board — 
Prizes of pleasure wealth and fame. 
Kept by a fair and fickle dame 
Who flings away her golden hoard 
On knave and clown — about the board 
All are to her the same. 



FKEAKS AND FANCIES 45 

Yet, each his wmnings must return, 
For Fortune's treasures Death defends ; 
He calls to us, and straightway sends 
The gems for Avhich our fancies burn 
Back to her hand. All we return, 
For Fortune — only lends. 

Is he a winner? — he who holds 
These- few brief days a shining toy 
That time will blacken with alloy. 
Or he whose action nobler moulds 
The game of life, Avhose arm upholds 
What error would destroy? 

Yet, something each of us must gain. 
Is vaguely felt as we commence — 
Is vaguely felt, till passing hence. 
We join that still mysterious train ; 
What shall we keep of that we gain? 
Perhaps — experience . 



46 I*REAKS AND FANCIES 

Punkin-Seed, 

You bet, its cur'us — all this here ; 
That punkin knows just what he needs- 
And gets it too. Yes, every year, 
As I go plantin' punkin seeds, 
I think : "Inside that little shell 
So smooth and white 's a little cuss 
Knows more 'n me" — fer I can't tell, 
How, without any noise er fuss. 
An insignif'cant dried-up thing 
As a punkin seed '11 go to work 
With a little sunshine dirt and rain, 
With never a kick, er growl, er shirk. 
And build a punkin vine, and load 
It all with punkins — plump and yeller 
Jest look at that one by the road — 
Yes — Punkin-seed's a cur'us feller. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 47 

It's sech strange doin's — all this here ; 

That Punkin-seed beneath our feet 

Jest chuckled to old Earth : ''My dear 

We'll build some punkins hard to beat." 

He didn't stop to rest er fret, 

Er even grumble at the weather, 

But pitched right in with : "Now you bet, 

What Earth and I can't do together 

In showin' up the punkin-line, 

Ain't worth the doin' !" And it seems 

When I look at that punkin-vine, 

Which even grows into my dreams 

Loaded with punkins plump and yeller, 

That Punkin-seed meant what he said, 

And is a mighty hustlin' feller. 



48 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

It's strange and cur'us — all this here — 
Where every punkin seems to know 
Jest what he's doin' ; mighty queer 
These men of learnin' here below, 
So full of art and politics, 
Religion, science, travel, law. 
And all sech elevatin' tricks, 
And sech a chance to use the jaw 
With telerphone and phonergraph, 
That'll talk ten mile er more awa}^. 
And pray and preach, er sing and laugh- 
It seems these fellers in some way 
Would try to get on speakin' terms 
With Punkin- seed. Whoever can 
So introduce himself and squirms 
His way into the punkin-plan. 
And then'll build a punkin-vine 
Loaded with punkins plump and 3^eller, 
Will bring a'reg'lar punkin shine 
Upon his name — the lucky feller ! 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 49 

So strange and cur'us — all this here ; 

Who knows what Punkin-seed might tell? — 

He hears the secrets whispered near 

Of rain and sun ; besides, to dwell 

There in the earth, to make your bed 

And dream and work beneath the sod — 

So near the silence of the dead, 

So near the artist hand of God, 

So free from care, so full of life, 

So confident that all is well ; 

We critters, here in mortal strife. 

Can't guess what Punkin-seed might tell. 

Say — jest look down there by the road 

And see them punkins plump and yeller — 

And tell me if you ever knowed 

That he was such a cur'us feller. 



50 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

The Castle cf Thought. 

There towers a castle, high 
Above the upper air ; 
Piercing the star-gemmed sky, 
Gleaming so white, so fair. 
''Let us climb, my soul," said I, 
"To the parapets on high, 
Above the upper air — 
Climb, till we faint or die, 
And find the treasure there." 

Thro' labyrinths of night, 

Thro' corridors of light. 

Ascending day by day, 

Thro' mazes dim, thro' mazes bright, 

Regardless of time's steady flight. 

We thread the toil-worn way. 

"0, we have striven long 
To gain the topmost stair ! 
'Tis surely near, my soul. 
Behold these halls — how fair ! 
'Tis surely near, my soul, 
We feel the glories there." 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 51 

Aloft we lift our eyes 
Filled with expectant light ; 
Far up — thro' purple haze — 
Above our fancy's flight — 
Above our reason's gaze, 
Still gleam the walls of white. 

We shall climb the stairs of Thought — 

Yes — forever ; 
We shall find the treasure sought — 

Yes — forever ; 
''Let us climb, O soul !" say I, 
"We shall not faint — nor die, 
For Love and Hope on high 

Dwell forever — 

Yes — forever." 



52 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Dreams and Reality. 

What mortal knows, in this strange life of ours, 

That which is false from that which bears the truth? 

Can part the dream from the reality? 

For stern realities, adown the past, 

Gather about themselves the misty hue 

Of dreams and sink into oblivion ; 

While many dreams, so shadowy and faint, 

Dwelling within the daring dreamer's brain, 

Gather in clearness with the passing years 

Until a long-sought principle is proved ; 

Then men rejoice and say: ''What seemed a dream 

Was the still whisper of reality." 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 53 

Midnight. 

The somber heavens form a pall ; 
Night-voices moan across the lea ; 
All seems a wilderness to me 
With midnight brooding over all. 

For Faith is dead — slain in the gloom ; 
The Earth — wrapped in a mourning robe — 
Whirls on. O ! why, on this dark globe — 
This vast and unfamiliar room — 

Why dwell we here? Alas ! my soul, 
What means this labor we have found, 
Here where the shadows gather round, 
With unknown death the only goal? 

Come, let us search again the dust 
And that gray silence overhead — 
So like the silence of the dead — 
To find a voice that Ave may trust. 

But what avails it? All is still ; 
No hint, no whisper of reply, 
Save from the night wind moaning by 
About the hollow and the hill. 



54 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Yet, o'er the shadows of the mind, 
Sometimes I find one little ray 
There struggling from some far-off day ; 
As he who hath been ever blind — 

Finds sometime that his darkened sight 
Is crossed by something new and strange, 
As, flashing thro' his night, doth range 
A tiny ray of rosy light. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 55 

The May. 

Now hearken, my children, I pray, 

To a quaint little song of the May ; 
Her praises the birds in their rapture are singing — 
O'er hilltops and valleys their anthems are ringing ; 
From fruitful old Earth her fair flowers are springing ; 

She comes in her beauty to-day, 
And manifold gifts to us all she is bringing — 

This generous queen of the May. 

From afar comes the beautiful May ; 

Ah, could she be with us alway ! 
So brief are her visits we scarcely remember 
How charming she is, for the chilly November 
Comes stealing along with his brother — December — 

And carries her far — far — away ; 
Ah ! where does he hide her — the crafty November — 

Where hides he the queen of the May? 

This question so vexed me, to-day 

I asked the fair queen of the May 
To tell me (in confidence) where she was sleeping 
While dark dreary Winter o'er cold earth was creeping 
And Jack Frost his harvest of snow-flakes was reaping ; 

She laughingly answered me nay — 
"That secret," she whispered, "is safe in my keeping." 

Ah, wise is" the queen' of the^May ! 



56 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

'' 'Tis better," said beautiful May, 

'^That I am not with you alway ; 
For beauty is fairest when beauty is fleeting ; 
And what can be sweeter than joyfully greeting 
A friend whom you love? Ah ! yes, dear is the meeting 

AVith loved ones that dwell far away." 
" 'Tis better — yes better," said Echo, repeating 

The words of the queen of the May. 

"This lesson I teach," said the May — 

'' 'Tis hard work that gives zest to play ; 
'Tis the cold and the snow and the dark dreary hours 
That brighten the beauty of sunshine and flowers ; 
December Avill bring you more love for my bowers 

While sleeping I lie, far away ; 
The thorns are our true friends as well as the flowers." 

Thus spake the wise queen of the May. 

Then welcome once more, dearest May — 

Thrice welcome — tho' brief is your slay ; 
Yes, all things forever are coming and going, 
With Time's mystic river is everything flowing, 
But whither and whence is beyond mortal knowing ; 

O, tell me, wise May-queen, I pray ! 
"Be patient, be patient, the harvest is growing, 

Sometime you will reap," said the May. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 57 

The Awakening. 

I. 

Ah — could we gain again that Night so still ! — 
Afar from doubts that sting — from joys that thrill ; 
Once more unsought — unheeding — in the arms 
Of Slumber clasped, with unawakened will. 

So soft the couch of that still night, long past ; 
So sweet the sleep, alas ! — too sweet to last ; 
For out into the streets of Time and Place, 
By prowling Wisdom, are our spirits cast. 

As mortals, overworn with care and dread. 
Gaze with a wistful eye upon the dead, 
Or turn a saddened thought to happy days, — 
So dream we of our peaceful long-lost bed ; 

That couch, where strayed no breath of loss or gain, 

No hint of life or death, of bliss or pain ; 

Again we may not find it, tho' we die — 

Aye — thro' all Heaven we may search in vain ! 



58 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

II. 

Amidst this earthly strife to live and know — 
These days that deal us happiness and woe — 
There falls a shadow of the old kind Sleep, 
Hinting of that fair silence long-ago. 

How happens it that Hest — itself complete — 
Should broken be for cruel cold and heat 
Of this sad journey o'er a troubled earth, 
Whereon we falter with unsteady feet? 

Fell there, like music, an enchanting word — 
So strange, that ev'n the dullest sleeper heard — 
So clear, its echoes rang from depth to depth — 
So sweet, that ev'n the drowsiest sleeper stirred?- 

Speaking the beauty of a magic land 
Of life and action working near at hand? — 
Haunting our slumber with its siren note 
Till here, awakened, on the earth we stand? 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 59 

III. 

This earth — this waste of planet and of sun, 
Where cheerily our labor is begun, 
Where, dreaming vainly of a harvest-time, 
We learn to hope, and leave our tasks undone. 

This earth, whereon we bravely work and sing, 
This earth — where half in shadow yet we cling 
And boldly say : ''At last will come the light," — 
Ah, should the morrow nought but darkness bring ! 

This life — wherein we see and seeth not, 
This life — stained with obscurity and blot, 
Where Memory babbles of one little hour 
With half of all eternity forgot. 

This life — so vague, so barren, and so brief, 
That leaves us fallen like an autumn leaf ; 
This life — that teaches what we cannot learn 
And fills us yearning with a sacred grief. 

And still to Life we give a faithful trust ; 
With all his sternness, he may yet be just ; 
We knoweth not the fulness of his heart 
For he doth deal in something more than dust. 



60 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

IV. 

A cold gray stranger prowls about the earth ; 
Along his pathway die all song and mirth ; 
So carelessly we view him, far away, 
Till some sad morn, he sits beside the hearth. 

Away with him, we see our loved ones go ; 
To where and what, no mortal brain can know ; 
Yet, marking closely that mysterious tread. 
Who says he seems not more a friencfthan foe? 

Familiar faces greet us here no more — 
Their voices vanished with the forms they wore ; 
Yet, hark ! An echo drifts across the deep — 
Perchance an echo from that unknown shore — 

The whispered echo of a voiceless wraith — 
An echo — murmuring of hope and faith : 
'*0, mortals ! wherefore shrink ye from the gaze 
And shun the kindly guiding hand of Death?" 

Grim Death ! Will you give back to us the rest 
And quiet of that sleep, which seems so blest 
Amidst this turmoil of the phantom years 
And all the throbbings of this doubtful quest? 



J'REAKS AND FANCIES 61 

V. 

''Peace, weary pilgrim ! Wherefore should you try 
To bear the burdens of th' eternal sky? 
What matters it? — thro'out its destined round 
The wheel must travel, though you laugh or cry. 

''Peace, weary pilgrim ! Wherefore should you pain 
The anxious heart with searching that is vain? — 
* Striving to store the mystery of All 
Within a corner of the little brain ! 

"Peace, weary pilgrim ! Cease your sorrowing. 
And hearken to the melodies that bring 
Across the valley hints of morning light 
And promise of that far-off hidden Spring." 



62 Freaks and fancies 

Strangers. 

Violet, down in the dew, 

Let me look you thro' and thro' ; 

Tell me — who and what are you? 

Do you pilfer from the skies, 

Or from some fair maiden's eyes, 

Beauty, glossed with azure dyes? 

Do you long intend to stay. 
Or will your gay mother — May, 
Take you with her far away? 

Oft my patience have you tried 
With these secrets that you hide 
Smiling on your green hill-side. 

Violet — the cunning elf — 
Answers from her mossy shelf: 
''First, please tell me of yourself." 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 6^ 

The Soliloquy of Mother Earth. 

Prologue. 

One day, as I lay dozing on the broad 
Life-giving bosom of our Mother Earth, 
Warm with the glowing rays of summer's sun, 
I found her musing — as she often does — 
Yes, musing in her quaint and quiet way. 
Presuming some of all the many forms 
That dwell here in the sunshine of her love 
May wish to know the tenor of her thoughts — 
(Tho', childlike, we are careless of her care) 
I have recorded this soliloquy 
Of our hue'e common mother. 



^&^ 



The Soliloquy. 

Full oft, as I go wand'ring on thro' space. 
Have I been thinking of that child of mine — 
My wa3^ward gifted and much troubled son — 
My child named Man — best loved of all the brood 
That calls me mother. In dim ages past, 
As I took notice of his infant ways. 



64 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

I saw in him an entei^prising mind 

Abounding with strange whims and grievous faults ; 

He has improved somewhat, but still is prone 

To thrive upon his kind ; and, youthlike, loves 

Too much the glitter of Hypocrisy, 

Disdainful of the honest eyes of Truth ; — 

Which sore doth vex his mother. 

When young he cared not what his shelter was 
Nor how he dined ; he, infantlike, believed 
In quantity much more than quality. 
I notice now how daintily he feeds ; 
I fear 'tis caused by that strange latest fad 
Which, he has hinted, is the proper cure 
For those who suffer from antiquity ; 
But civilization seems to have its ills, 
And I so long have clung unto the Old 
(Altho' I know the Old brings forth the New) 
I take not kindly to new-fangled ways 
Unsuited to a mother. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 65 

Sadly inquisitive has he become ; 

He peers and gropes into the quiet nooks 

Where hide the secret treasures of my life — 

The treasures of a ripe experience 

That I have gathered toilfully in space — 

(Thanks to the kindness of the wizard — Time.) 

I never thought, when in the glow of youth, 

To rear a child so strangely curious ; 

I mean my treasures for his benefit 

Altho' he oft disj)lays a reckless waste — 

Destroying much in the raw haste of youth ; 

Yet I forgive him (thinking of his worth) 

Because I am his mother. 

About his education I'm concerned ; 

I watch his thousand droll experiments 

As he proceeds along the doubtful path 

That guides him to the realm where Wisdom dwells ; 

What theories he to himself unfolds ! — 

Tis true, at times unto distraction's bounds 

He drives me with his theoretic whims ; 

He tries my temper, most severely too, 

Experimenting with electric force — 

That subtle soothing tonic that I use 

Whene'er my nervous system loses tone — 

A frequent trial of mothers ! 



63 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

The other members of our solar group — 
The children of our fiery father — Sun, 
My brother and my sister planet-worlds, 
Have not escaped his scientific pranks ; 
And e'en the strangers of far-reaching space, 
So distant that they dwell beyond my ken, 
Are objects for his speculative thought ; 
Thus, when a comet wanders from afar 
(Those unkempt gypsies of the Universe) 
And pitches camp within our neighborhood, 
Then does my child remark the foreign air, 
The tattered garb and the eccentric way — 
Displaying that vast curiosity 
Which so disturbs his mother. 

He vainly cries to know the cause of all — 
To know the why and wherefore of all things, 
And often gropes and flounders in the depths 
Of some grotesque and superstitious creed 
Where grow the weeds of cruelty and fear ; 
Forgetful, in his youthful heedlessness. 
That charity and love are more than creeds. 
And that this mighty universal plan 
Is one of changeless law, where each and all 
Are ever toiling toward Perfection's light 
With Evolution's torch to show the way. 
Alas, the woes of mothers ! 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 67 

'Tis oft my wish when noting his mad pranks, 
That he may learn of Moderation's gift — 
For many a bump and bruise does he inflict 
Upon himself by his impetuous deeds. 
Alas ! it tries a loving mother's heart 
To see the sternness of the lessons taught 
In that rough school of old Experience ; 
Though, understood, Experience is kind 
And deals with each according to his needs ; 
Man will be made to love this dark-brow'd friend 
And know the value of his harshest moods 
That are so painful to the mind untried ; 
Some find the love of grim Experience 
Is deep as is the mother's. 

His future? No, I care not to reveal 

The cherished dreams within my mother-breast ; 

This much I say : that if his virtues lead 

Him safely throughout Folly's many snares. 

If he falls not in Degradation's depths 

When goaded by the lash of Selfishness, 

Nor turns to right or left, but ever strives 

To gain the portals of that fair domain 

Where shine the lights of Charity and Love, 



68 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Then will he be a comfort and a joy ; 
A bliss complete will animate my breast 
When I may say with pride : This is my son, 
Behold him in his full development ; 
He worked his way thro' night, amid the ills 
Of suns and stars to Wisdom's happy land. 
Where now he stands erect — the grand ideal 
Of his fond foolish mother. 



Ever afar from the golden West 
Our Mother Earth is flying 
Bearing the children of her breast — 
Bearing the children she loves best — 
Ever afar from the golden West 
Where day is dying — dying. 

Ever afar from the golden West 
Our Mother Earth is flying ; 
Bearing us all to peace and rest — 
Bearing us all to regions blest — 
Ever afar from the golden West 
Where day is dying — dying. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 69 

The Pilgrims. 

Along an uphill worn and dusty road 
We slowly move, nor can we understand 
Why clad and cloaked so deep in dust we stand, 
Amid the shadows of an unknown land — 
Amid the shadows of an unknown road. 

A winding road — and tho' we turn and peer — 
Seeking its backward vistas to retrace 
And Memory aids us with her shining face, 
We see but little — some still resting place, — 
Perchance a flower that is nodding near. 

A winding road — and tho' afar we gaze — 
Striving to scan that distance dim ahead, 
To mark if smooth or rough the path we tread. 
Dense mists, perhaps in mercy from o'erhead. 
Descend and hide the scenes of coming days. 

A winding road — with none to tell us why 
Our feet began this faltering uphill work. 
Did some unrest within our spirits lurk 
Which only this rough journey — this o'erwork 
Would banish? Would we knew before we die. 



70 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

We mourn for that lost realm wherein we dwelt 
At peace, content, — where reigned the Queen of Calm ; 
Perchance she turned us from the Land of Balm, 
Vexed by some restless dream or fleeting qualm 
That fell on us, because we ne'er had felt. 

Ah, subtle strange revenge ! — this plot laid deep — 
Binding us serfs and slaves to Senses five 
That smirk and sneer : ''Poor slaves — to be alive, 
To feel, to see, to hope, to fear, to strive !" — 
Alas for him who vexed the Queen of Sleep ! 

He feels — and finds how powerful is pain ; 
He sees — and learns that he is more than blind — 
His eyes perceive the husk, the shell, the rind, 
Yet vainly search to find the Master-mind 
That fashions substance o'er and o'er again. 

He hopes — and yet knows not for what he hopes ; 
He fears — and knows not what it is he fears ; 
He is the sport of idle Smiles and Tears, 
Delusive Happiness his being sears, 
From darkness into darkness — thus he gropes. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 71 

He strives — toiling with patience up the steep, 
Thro 'out the cheerless days — toiling in vain — 
Some barren little summit to attain, 
Hoping a glimpse of Heaven there to gain ; 
Alas for him who vexed the Queen of Sleep ! 

A winding road — and will Death tell us why — 
This half-known Death, so chill, so strange to see — 
Why this dim path? Why all this mystery? 
Why we this way must seek our destiny? 
Death turns a close- veiled face — but no reply. 

Yet hearken ! — comes the answer clear and low : 
"Before the spirit knew the winding road, 
Before the spirit bowed beneath the load. 
Before Life drove ye fiercely 'neath the goad 
From that fair Slumberland, ye ne'er did know — 

Th' eternal Purpose, moving ever higher. 

That shapes all things; 'twas That^ which dwelt in ye, 

Urged ye from Sleep out into Mystery — 

And thus to Death where ye shall truly see ; 

So, Godlike, do ye move to God's desire." 



(2 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

A Man vs. the World. 

A little man battles a great big world — 

A bewildering sight it is to behold ; 

Caught in its mesh he is whisked and whirled 

Thro' the summer heat and wintry cold ; 

Sport for the heedless buffeting years, 

Tossed by wind, by wave, and storm, 

Palpitating with hopes and fears. 

To be food at last for the sluggish worm. 

A curious thing — to be whisked and whirled 

About in the clutch of a great big world. 

A little man battles a great big world — 
But surely 'tis not at his own request ; 
Rudely awakened and carelessly hurled 
Out in the mill he is put to the test. 
Aye, strive as he may with his utmost might, 
The world in the end all stakes will claim ; 
At best he can make but a losing fight. 
Be brave to the finish, and then die game ; 
A curious thing — to be thus hurled 
Out in the fight with a great big world. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 73 

A little man battles a great big world ; 
Beginning with courage firm and high ; 
His flaunting banner, aloft unfurled, 
Floats in the blue of a cloudless sky. 
He thinks the world must go his way 
If he be steadfast, bold and strong ; 
But sleepless night and scornful day 
Soon teach him where his creed is wrong. 
'Tis rather rough to be tossed and twirled 
About in the clutch of a great big world. 

A little man battles a great big world — 
What use in the struggle? — who cares to know 
How bold he may be to face the world? — 
How brave he may be to bear his woe? 
Is there about him an unseen throng — 
Faces, invisible, watching the fray? — 
Silent applause if he is strong? — 
Murmurs of sorrow if he gives way? — 
Waiting to welcome him when he is whirled 
Afar from the grasp of this great big world? 



74 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

The Envoy. 

Once — long ago — she plucked a rose 

And gave it me and said : 
''Whatever portion Fate bestows — 
Whatever paths you tread — 
Henceforward let this fair rose be 
A messenger to you from me." 

Strange, is it not? — Altho' 'twere vain 

To search the wide world o'er — 
Her face and form to see again — 

Altho,' forevermore. 
The earth v/ill hold of her no trace — 
Yet, where there blooms a rose's face 
Or where there drifts a rose's breath, — 
Across the silence wrought by Death 
There comes the whisper: ^'Let it be 
A messenger to you from me.'' 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 75 

Daisy-Secrets. 

Down in the vale, the daisies dwell — 
Children of Summer's fold ; 
Learning thei7' lessons of life, as well, 
Building their crowns as of old — 
A halo of petals, all milk-white 
About a center of gold. 

Tell me, ye mighty men of clay — 

Ye mighty men, who hold 

That Earth whirls solely, night and day, 

For those in human mould : 

Just why and how these daisies build 

Their crowns of white and gold. 



7G FREAKS AND FANCIES 

The Lesson of Death. 

Worn was I — sad and worn and sick at heart 
From pondering o'er and o'er this ponderous scene 
Of earth and stars — the depths of time and space — 
The countless shapes and changing forms of life — 
The thousand riddles vexing to the brain 
Of eager man. 

''Ah God!," said I, "for peace, 
For sleep — deep sleep, oblivion and night — 
For, in this glare and blare of earth and sense. 
There seems no object worthy of the game — 
No steady purpose moving toward an end. 

''This earth seems sometimes all one vast caprice — 

Her wizard forces working — all for naught ; 

Or, if for some result, so far away 

In time and wrapped so close in mystery. 

That he who seeks for comfort with clear eye 

Undimmed by superstitious prejudice, 

And fain would know the honest face of Truth, 

Regardless of old threadbare usages, 

Is hurled back on himself ; while all things seem 

To mock him for his blindness. 



FEEAKS AND FANCIES 77 

'There above 
It is the same — worlds builded of the cla}^ 
In warp and woof the same as this poor star — 
With all the tricks and tragedies of earth ; 
If not the same, a little better or 
A little worse — perfection nowhere found. 
And yet, above, below, a thousand things 
Speak, urging on to question solve and prove — 
Till, faint and old, worn out wuth much defeat. 
We sadly turn to Faith for better things." 

Thus had I toiled and sought thro' weary days 
Thus was I musing at the midnight hour ; 
When, entering noiselessly the open dcor. 
There came a child in slowly from the night — 
A childish serious face — as Cupid's grown 
More beautiful with thought. 

A moment passed 
In re very then he spake : ''Yes, mortal, I 
Am come to comfort thee. My name is Love, 
And I am here to-night in serious mood, 
For thou hast need of knowledge that is mine. 
Long have I watched thy weary bootless quest — 
Wishing to speak and comfort, but, Alas ! — 
Thou knewest not my voice, thou wast not ripe, 
Thou couldst not feel the lesson I would teach. 



78 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

"Aye, mortals look on Love, and smile and say: 

'A rosy boy is he among the flowers' — 

But frequently I come in different garb, 

And then they know me not, and shrink and weep, 

For they look only at my sable dress 

And know not that the rosy boy — their friend — 

Is hid within — but more of this anon. 

"Why dost thou vex thyself with space and time? — 

Infinities thou canst not comprehend ; 

Thy mind hath bounds, infinities have none, — 

Were thy mind infinite, all would be plain. 

This would I say to thee : Ye mortals see 

But half of things, thinking ye view the whole ; 

This Universe is twofold, everywhere 

That aught of substance lives, there o'er it dwells 

A mind to govern. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 79 

''All these varying forms 
Of life-thrilled substance, known to mortal eyes, 
Are but the means by which invisible mind 
Attaineth growth — for much of mind is 3^oung 
And ne'er has found a cultivated state, 
But ramps and roars — all hurricane and flood — 
Causing a thousand vagaries ; or yet 
It builds in blindness — see the forest-trees — 
Where one would thrive ye find an infant ten ; — 
A3^e, much of mind is blind, unskilled, untaught ; 
Yet, if ye view it in the rightful way, 
Ye find all needful to the perfect plan. 

"Ye see that mind which is uncouth and gross, 
Working its way thro' lowest dullest forms ; 
Learning its lessons slowly — for its good. 
Whate'er is beautiful is the fair work 
Wrought by a fairer mind. 

Thus do I draw 
Near to the question of thyself — the mind 
AVliich works thro' thee, that mind which j^et is blind, 
But having gained a nearness to the light 
Beholds its blindness. 



80 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

"Hast thou seen a tree 
That bears a scanty small and bitter fruit, 
Taken from out the wilds of thorn and brake ; 
Its seed watched over by the same kind hand, 
Until from many generations' care 
Hath sprung a fruit, so rich and beautiful, 
Thou wouldst not guess the crabbed parent-tree? 

"Thus doth the God thou canst not comprehend 
So move the mind that toils thro' lower life — 
Guiding it on to larger hope and sense ; 
Ev'n as the gardener cultivates the tree, 
So God doth do to all. 

'Tis thus He leads 
The will of that strange wanderer within ; 
And as His gross, or wild, or beautiful 
Doth dwell in thee, so wilt thou live and move — 
Thine actions in accordance with thy mind — 
Working thy way along the upward road. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 81 

''When grown aweary of the house of clay, 

Thou seekest wisdom more than that of earth, 

Or needest what is not in mortal life, 

Then cometh Death — this Death so shunned by men ; 

j\h! they who know^ him smile at all such fear; 

They look thro' all the chill and sable robes 

And see the rosy boy among the flowers, 

For Love is Death, and Death is always Love, 

And Love is the begotten Son of God." 

He ceased, and turning, passed the open door, 
Whereat I followed, peering thro' the gloom, 
Hoping to hear again the prophet-voice ; 
The stars were shining and the sinking moon 
O'er-spread with silver splendor all the West ; 
But he had vanished ; yet, adown the night. 
And lightly borne as if from far away, 
There fell a chorus heavenly attuned. 
Wherein the voices of a multitude 
Did rise and fall in harmony divine ; 
Singing in greeting sweet to Love and Death. 



82 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

'^Love and Death — we give thee welcome- 
Child of life and light ; 

O'er the troubled wayside sowing 
Blessings infinite. 

Child of Love — to mortals clinging ; 

Child of Death — to mortals bringing 

Kest and Peace. We greet thee, singing 
In the happy night. 

''Love and Death — we give thee welcome ; 

There is no abyss ; 
Thou hast guided thro' the shadow 

To completer bliss ; 
Without thee, the heavens shining — 
Countless worlds in space reclining. 
Filled with life of God's designing, 

Sink to nothingness." 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 83 

Nature^s Hypocrisy. 

We never know what quietness conceals 
Nor how a fair appearance may deceive, 
For Nature often plays us false. She hides 
The fatal germ beneath a blushing cheek ; 
She gives iinto the dread volcanic slope 
A mantle soft with grass and sweet with flowers ; 
Her stars shine brightest just before the storm ; 
She sows in every dell her strange deceits ; 
We find the serpent in her fairest nooks ; 
She pads the tiger's claw and lights his way ; 
She veils with oily word and polished mien 
The selfishness unworthy of the brute ; 
And there are hours of darkness for the souls 
That light the world with kindliness and love. 
We never know the ground beneath our feet — 
We never know^ the pathway that we tread. 



84 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Her Journey. 

When first she trod this road of life, 
Fair Innocence came to her side 
And said : ''Child, I will be thy guide, 
Tho' brief the time that I abide with thee." 

As farther on her way she went. 
Love, flower-crowned, came to her side 
And said : ''Child, I will be thy guide, 
Tho' brief the time that I abide with thee." 

And then she walked her lonely way 

With Sorrow ever at her side 

Who said : "Child, I will be thy guide. 

Till Death shall come will I abide with thee." 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 85 

^^Hush! ^tis but a Little While/^ 

Hush ! 'tis but a little while ; 
This day, this hour, the spell may break ; 
This dream of earth may fade away. 
The drowsy soul spring up awake 
Filled with the light of clearer day. 

Hush ! 'tis but a little while, 
Why heed to-day's discordant tones? — 
Why heed the dust, the din, the fear? — 
Why vex the heart with idle moans 
When rest and silence dwell so near? 

Hush ! 'tis but aj'little while 
And we may know what Earth doth mean, 
As change leads on with steady hand 
O'er mystic^ways, o'er paths unseen, 
To portals of a strange new land. 



86 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Bicycle Song. 

Hurrah for the wheel — the flying wheel ! 

My love, my life, my steed of steel ! 
Glimmering bright 
In the morning light, 
Gleaming and glancing 
Dashing and dancing ; 

Swift as a bird or an arrow's flight. 

Hurrah for the wheel — the flying wheel ! 

My love, my life, my steed of steel ! 

Now gliding down a valley grade, 
Now skimming by the river — 
Where willows bend o'er grassy banks 
And aspens nod and quiver ; 
Beneath the woodland's quiet shade ; 
By sleepy hamlets quaint and staid, — 
Thus on and on by glen and glade. 
Oh, could we ride forever! 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 87 

Hush — a churchyard's 'neath the hill — 
Ah, Death, what change you bring ! 
Ah, can it be ! — that cold and still, 
Deep in the grave, shall sleep the thrill 
Of life and love? No, Death may chill 
The body, yet I cling 
Unto the skirts of hope and faith — 
A higher song they sing. 

For who can doubt that all is well — 
Or heed the spur of care? — 
When life and hope and beauty dwell 
In Nature everywhere, — 
Beauty — in every field and dell 
Fresh with morning air ; 
No evil shall my spirit quell 
Amid these scenes so fair. 



FEEAKS AND FANCIES 

Long live the wheel — the noble wheel ! 
My love, my life, my steed of steel ! 

Glimmering bright 

In the morning light ; 

Gleaming and glancing, 

Dashing and dancing, 
Swift as a bird or an arrow's flight. 
Long live the wheel — the noble wheel ! 
My love, my life, my steed of steel ! 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 89 

Reminiscences. 

There is a something in the dreary wood 
* Swaying with tempestuous winds of night, 
There is a something in the riotous flood 
Downward sweeping with resistless might, 
That ^speaks to me, and wakens in my blood 
A sympathetic thrill of old delight. 

Like fancies of our half- forgotten dreams 

A vision rises — of a rock-bound shore, 

Where thro' the night the white-capped billow gleams 

And giants of the tempest rave and roar ; 

While something stirring in my memory, seems 

To thrill to echoes of a song of yore. 



Perchance in some mad frolic far in Time, 
My spirit, bounded now by human clay, 
Was whirled thro' some chaotic wreck sublime, 
That left its impress to this later day. 



90 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

The Eternal Feminine. 

Dedicated to H. W. H.— M. D. 
PREFACE. 

You say, Hal, that up-to-date human femininity, 
regarded from a physical standpoint, is — ''a fragile 
article." In fact, to quote your language: "They 
are poor material — about ninety-nine per cent suffer 
from constipation." Notwithstanding this sad han- 
dicap, it cannot be denied that we find a certain mel- 
ancholy pleasure in their society, as well as a pro- 
found interest (strictly professional of course) in 
the puzzling traits of character which they exhibit. 
Something of this is embodied in the following poet- 
ical morsel which I have taken the liberty of dedi- 
cating to you. 



At evening, when the sunset glows 
And whispering waves their secrets tell. 
Behold — she comes — our foe of foes — 
Fair Isabel ! 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 91 

The breezes, passing near, disclose 
A hint of where the violets dwell — 
(In perfumed ribbon, lace and hose,) 
Eare Isabel ! 

And on her breast a red — red — rose — 
(She chooses all her weapons well. 
For hearts she knows as no man knows,) 
Wise Isabel ! 

Behold her when rebellion grows 
And bravely we would say farewell — 
How lightly, then, she lays our woes — 
Kind Isabel ! 

For man must reap what woman sows, 
(Recall that old Adamic sell,) 
He cannot see beyond her nose — 
Sly Isabel ! 

How lightly on her way she goes — 
How lightly she all hope can quell — 
Upon her breast a red — red — rose, 
Fair Isabel ! 



As for her predisposition to rag-time melodies, 
caramels and postscripts — this we will discuss later. 



02 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

The Clock. 

Hear the old clock singing 
In solemn measured beat, 
As tiny minutes hasten 
On silent winged feet ; 
''The time is flying — flying — 
The days are dying — dying — 
And nearer draws the shadow 
Each mortal needs must meet." 

Hear the old clock calling 
In accents sad and slow : 
(The tiny minutes heed not 
Nor pause as on they go) 
''The time is flying — flying — 
The days are dying — dying — 
As nearer draws the shadow 
That veileth mortal woe." 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 9B 

And tho' the clock be silent, 
Aye — hushed its every tone — 
The tiny fleeting minutes 
Still hurry on alone ; 
For time is flying — flying — 
And days are dying — dying — 
Throughout the great Forever 
Till Earth and all are gone. 



To 



You left so soon, while I must linger late 
To wrestle in this petty human strife ; 
I ask not why ; 'tis vain to hope that Fate 
Will ope her stubborn lips to speak of life. 

Yes, long ago, for one brief summer morn 
Among the flowers we lingered — you and I ; 
And then you slept and left me here forlorn 
To wonder what it means to live and die. 

'Twas long ago, we were but children then ; 
Yet, when at last I rest my weary feet 
And turn forever from these haunts of men, 
'Tis Sweet to dream that, somehow, we shall meet. 



94 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

As of Other Days. 

Oh, brother mine ! As all that mortals know 

Of that which was, for some brief years, called ''me" 

Is earth alone — with earth above, below, 

A. stone-carved name, a passing memory ; 

As Time's judicious hand has soothed the pain 

That scourged us, when apart our souls were led, 

Again I join with thee to explain 

Somewhat of those whom mortals name ''the Dead." 

In spirit will we meet then, by the hill — 
Dear from the memory of childhood's play. 
Dear from those earthly joys that haunt me still — 
How sweet become the dreams of yesterday ! 
Again we hear the hemlock's mournful song. 
Again the sunset-glory glows and gleams. 
Again the spring returns — the feathered throng 
Is noisy as in days of youthful dreams. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 95 

Again the valley — clad in summer dress, 
The fruitful acres — ripe for boyish tasks, 
And then the autumn ! By her loveliness 
The blushing Earth the secret half unmasks 
And hints and whispers in coquettish way 
The plans of mighty Life — so new, so old ; 
Ah, would we read aright, her every May 
Proclaims the secret, Death has never told ! 

Here will we linger as of long ago ; 
'Tis by this grass-grown grave Ave learn to learn, 
For wisdom is a fruit that springs from woe — 
The harvest that dull Sorrow will return. 
Here sleeps the clay — yet it has always slept, 
As it must alwa^^s sleep where'er it strays ; 
'Tis but the path o'er which each soul has crept — 
O'er which each soul must creep to larger ways. 



96 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Here sleeps the clay — it is not, ne'er was '^I ;" 

It is the soul alone that ever lives 

And forms alone that die — that ever die. 

It is the soul within the form, that gives 

The clay a dearness that is not its due ; 

While love grows strong thus from our having met, 

And I am always I, and You are You, 

With naught forgotten, tho' we oft forget. 

Now here — now there — now fettered — and now free. 
As throbs the magic pulse of life and change ; 
From all that was, and is, to what will be — 
So does the deathless soul forever range, 
To grow from this to that, from much to more 
And ever more — there is no highest height ; 
And what is light to-day, ere day be o'er. 
Shall pale as dawns to-morrow's purer light. 



FEEAKS AND FANCIES 



97 



Yet, there is night, the backward step, mischance ; 
And shadows rise as light is half withdrawn ; 
But brighter shall the beam to-morrow glance — 
More radiant seems for such, to-morrow's dawn. 
All loss is prelude to some noble gain, 
For Purpose journeys over winding ways 
Regardless how the shadows wax or wane — 
Unheeding mortal comment — blame or praise. 



Ah, idle words ! Ye are for ear and brain ; — 
Oh brother mine, how dull this muffling dress 
Of earthly words ! Where mind alone doth reign 
All thought is language, and doth all express ; 
Yet, somewhat of my thought hath mixed with thine, 
Thus do you feel the life with which I thrill ; 
Here in this measured message — thine and mine — • 
Together as of old — here meet we still. 



98 FEEAKS AND FANCIER 

An Epitaph. 
To 



He did as men would have man do — 
Nor faltered in this earthly test ; 
His heart was honest, tried, and true ; 
With labor all his days were blest 
Until the Shadow whispered '^rest." 

He had his purpose to attain — 
A purpose worthy of his clay ; 
Amid the rabble-rush for gain. 
Amid the gaudy world-display 
He sternly sought his chosen way. 

He heard the babble of the fool, 
He knew the bubble-chasing throng. 
Nor lost his faith in Nature's school, 
Nor took for right a gilded wrong 
As quietly he moved along. 



FEEAKS AND FANCIES 



Nor feared he yet to have his say — 
To batter down some ancient cheat, 
But more he loved alone to stray 
Where Nature's subtler pulses beat — 
Afar from highways of deceit. 

With equal care for earth and heaven — 
(For earth and stars are self-same dust) 
He made the best of what was given — 
From golden fruit to beggar^ s crust, 
And held that, somehow, God was just. 

With charity for each and all 
From torpid king to soulless clod, 
He hoped beyond the curtain's fall 
And bore with grace life's chastening rod- 
Co-operating, thus, with God. 

So did he live — so did he pass, 
What tho' none spake when he did go — 
Are not the tears wept by the grass, 
The night-wind's sorrow whispered low, 
The choicest tributes man can know? 

L.ofC. 



100 FEEAKS AND FANCIES 

Two Sovereigns. 

Earth, sky and sea — all mystery 
Enshrouding us about ; 
Within ourselves — still mystery ; 
Above — within — without — 
The silent realm of Mystery 
Where ruleth Faith and Doubt. 

A king so stern — a queen so fair 

O'er earth and sky and sea, 

A strange and yet well-mated pair — 

These twain of Mystery ; 

There are no paths they may not dare 

Thro' all eternity. 

The king is Doubt — the queen is Faith, • 

Their subjects — you and I ; 

They reign o'er Birth, o'er Life, o'er Death, 

They reign for aye and aye ; 

We crown them with our earliest breath, 

We crown them when we die. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 101 

Cold crabbed Doubt — self-willed and blind — 

What message from the night? — 

''Oh, shadows ! — born of clay and mind, 

So soon to cease your flight, 

What profit hope ye here to find 

In Life's uncertain light?" 

And hearken to the words of Faith 

The voice of Doubt to still : 

"Oh mortals ! heed not what he saith, 

His days are dim and chill — 

But know that Life shall conquer Death, 

That Good shall vanquish 111. 

Such are the words of Doubt and Faith 

For all — both low and high ; 

So must we go from birth to death — 

Their subjects — you and I, 

To crown them with our earliest breath — 

To croAvn them when we die. 

So does the realm of Mystery 

Enshroud us all about. 

While Truth afar must ever be, 

For all within, without. 

Ourselves, the earth, the sky, the sea, 

Are ruled by Faith and Doubt. 



102 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

At the Threshold. 

Amid the daily toil — the routine born 

Of duty, and the swarm of petty trials 

That sting and harass us as on we pass, 

Amid the ceaseless gabble and the blind 

Half-tragic gropings of the multitude — 

Each searching for his own peculiar toy, 

Anaid the clashing of vain little wills, 

And all the dust and din that vex the earth, 

When men catch, tho' but for an instant's space, 

The gleaming face of Truth, amid all these 

There sometimes comes a moment strange and sweet. 

Perchance 'tis but a glance at sunset skies 

Or echo of a song of eventide. 

Perchance a memory idling from the past, 

A passing face, perchance a wildwood flower, 

Some trifle at the best — and yet it wakes 

That dreaming other self that sleeps in man ; 

Then, all the discord of a jangling world 

Grows faint and dies away, and comes a sense 

Of utter peace and perfect restfulness — 

While that which seemed of earth, is earth no more. 



So do we feel the stirring of the soul 

And know man's fate is bounded not by years. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 103 

Sleep — Dreams — Death* 

Beloved Sleep — 
Thou kindly angel of ill-fated Life — 
Bear me away unto thy fields of bliss ; 
Let Pleasure flaunt — her gauds I shall not miss, 
And Love go by, singing of his first kiss — 

Thou art more welcome — Sleep. 

Mirth-loving Dreams — 
Ye vagrant children of great-hearted Sleep — 
Lead me forever o'er your phantom ways ; 
Let Fortune boast — what are her fairest days 
But bubbles of earth-riches and earth-praise — 

Ye are more welcome — Dreams. 

Mysterious Death — 
Closely veiled sister of beloved Sleep — 
Thou, too, art kind ; thy gifts — eternal peace 
And from these days of toil and trial — release ; 
Rise when thou wilt and bid this clamor cease — 

Thou, too, art welcome — Death. 



10-1 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Religion, 

All men — of all conditions — seeketh God ; 

That God — so vast — impenetrable — and calm, 

Who views the unclad children of the wood 

Before their idols, and the children clad 

In fine array before their shrines — as one ; 

Who knows the prayers of every tongue and clime- 

Of every age and every form of life ; 

Who gives to all an ear and helping hand, — 

Implanting in each heart the spark divine 

That, kindling into flame, leaps forth and lights 

The way unto some temple reared by Faith. 

What if it be the savage dance and fast, 
Or bigot with his creed, or atheist 
In mourning for his blindness, or the sage 
With dreams and theories — 'tis all the same ; 
All hear the Master's whisper to the soul 
And 'answer — each in his own voice and way. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 



105 



Behold that Power wliose mantle falls o'er all ; 
Whose blessing goes to every heart that feels 
The mystery divine — nor cares for form 
Or method of expression ; — Who, unmoved, 
Regards in silence all these deeds of Time ; 
Whose charity is greater than all worlds ; 
And, should it be thy wish to gain that grace 
Which Heaven holds dear, heed the example given 
And follow well in thy small round of life. 



106 FREAKS AND FANCIES 



Man and Wisdom* 



They come — these shadows of a season brief — 
To tenant Earth ; some rise, some sink in mire, 
Some toil, some waste, some struggle with Desire, 
And many perish like the withered leaf ; 
Some sleep, some dream, and there are some who see ; 
Some search for that which never shall be found ; 
Some sow to reap, some drudge o'er barren ground, 
While all are clad and cloaked in mystery. 

Tho' near she ever stands — he sees her not ; 

Her brow is sad — her finger on her lips ; 

She fain would speak — but few would hear or heed, 

Her mystic tongue, to man, has ne'er been taught ; 

With mournful smile whose light the tears eclipse 

She hears his foolish noise — his boastful deed. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 107 

Education, 
Look not to men alone to teach thy heart ; 
Knowledge is subtle, varied, many-tongued ; 
Her way lies often far from ear and eye ; 
She may proclaim the highest truth and yet 
No word be writ or spoken. Follow her 
Far from the beaten path — beyond the gates — 
And out into the fields which few men tread ; 
Put by thy books, thy themes, thine old deceits 
And be alert to catch her faintest sign ; — 
For there are Masters that no ma.n hath known. 
Voices that teach what man hath never heard. 
Prophets that see what man hath never dreamed. 
And there are vast waste places, which now seem 
Wildernesses of night and loneliness. 
Where tiny buds of promise soon will spring 
Up thro' the darkened soil, and light will come. 
Changing the desert to a garden fair 
Where men shall rest in fuller hope and peace. 



There is a little hollow in the hills — 
Where breezes pause and vagrant clouds drift by 
And leafy voices murmur to the sky, 
Where rare musicians sing — unknown — unseen- 
While fairy courts of many a flower-queen 
Hold revelry. 



108 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

There — in the little hollow of the hills — 
The Artist lingers whom no eye doth know ; 
Who holds the secret of the sunset's glow, 
The rose-bud's perfume and the lily's grace, 
And fills with beauty each uplifted face 
That hopes below. 

There — in the little hollow of the hills — 
The Master cometh whom no ear hath heard ; 
Whose wisdom every living heart hath stirred ; 
Who shapes the destinies of heaven and earth, 
And reads the mystery of death and birth — 
Yet speaks no word. 

There — in the little hollow of the hills — 
As evening shadows linger in caress — 
Sweet angel- voices draweth near to bless, 
Fair angel-forms stray thro' the twilight grove, 
And every life hears whispered Heaven's love 
And loveliness. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 

From the Silence. 

Beloved — Beloved — Beloved — 
Oh hearken ! — for all is not over — 
Altho' the sad earth will soon cover 
The form of your husband, your lover, 
Oh hearken — Beloved — Beloved ! 

Think of me — not as you leave me ; 
I know there is silence unbroken, — 
That never a word may be spoken, — 
Yet, many a mystical token 
Shall wing its still way unto thee. 

Think of me — not as you leave me ; 
From travail and night I awaken ; 
O, feel that thou art not forsaken ! 
'Tis not far away we are taken 
And near am I yet unto thee. 



109 



110 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Think of me— not as 3^ou leave me ; 
O hearken ! — mine too is the sorrow — 
And, with thee, my hope is to borrow 
The bahn of some healing to-morrow 
And whisper its secret to thee. 

Beloved — Beloved — Beloved — 
O hearken ! — for all is not over — 
For never the sad earth shall cover 
The soul of your husband, your lover, 
hearken — Beloved — Beloved ! 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 111 

The Spring-Children. 

To 

To you the Muse a tiny gift doth bring — 
A row of word-beads glittering on a string, 
She found them lately in the April dawn 
Among the happy faces of the spring. 



The same strange labor of the ancient dust 

Begins anew, 
And dainty child-like forms, Earth's sheltering crust 

Are creeping thro' ; 
New voices far and near the day are filling, 
While Promise to young ears is lightly trilling — 
Her fairy anthems never rang more thrilling — 

More falsely true. 

And not one whisper borne on all the air 

Of heaven's blue 
To hint of aught but love and sunshine there — 

And heaven's dew ; 
Yet, down below the far horizon hiding, 
Are Age and Winter stealthily abiding — 
Each, to the other, vengeful plans confiding — 

In wrath and rue. 



112 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

But who would be so cruel as to speak 

(Not I — nor you) 
Of death who, soon or late, us all shall seek — 

(And find us too ;) 
Nay, leave the April morn unclouded shining. 
The April hearts in joy and trust reclining ; — 
For is not All beyond our sad divining — 

Our mortal view? 

Then let us drink with them the sparkling cup 

Of Nature's brew ; 
Forget, that to this glory rising up. 

We say — ''adieu;" 
Forget — and join the universal chorus. 
Content that Beauty sometimes kneels before us- 
Content that for to-day is bending o'er us 

Fair Heaven's blue. 



To you the Muse her gypsy gift hath brought — 
The row of word-beads on a thread of thought, 
She found them lately in the April dawn — 
And kept them — tho' they were not what she sought. 



FEEAKS AND FANCIES 113 

To the Human Body. 

Thou temple of a thousand mysteries, 
Weird — intricate — and subtle of design ! — 
Fashioned and furnished by a hand benign ; 
The gift of kindly earth and friendly skies 
To house the wandering soul ; a paradise, 
When all is well, of harmony divine ; 
When ill, a hell whose prison-walls confine 
Till Death beholds and ends the sacrifice. 

When we must leave thee may the same kind grace 
Again attend and lend as true a hand ; 
Mysterious home ! — where, for a little space, 
We enter — pause — and stiive to understand — 
Gazing with dimming eyes in hope to trace 
Aright the pathway of this shadow-land. 



114 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Conception* 

Out from the narrow rooms of Memory, 
We vainly gaze upon the little arc 
Of time that glimmers faintly in the dark 
And awful circle of Eternity. 

From narrow rooms of Personality, 
We vainly gaze at things that are, to-day, — 
While, passing ever on the unknown way, 
Go all the pageants of Infinity. 

The windows of the House of Life — how few ! — 
And these so stained with ancient mold and rust — 
Curtained with error prejudice and dust, — 
What wonder, then. Light comes but faintly thro' ! 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 115 

War- Voices. 

Hear the moaning in the distance 
Of the centuries long fled ; 
Wraiths of nations Spain has tortured — 
Wraiths of martyrs that have bled ; 
Hear the mournful echoes falling, 
Hear the silent voices calling, 
Hearken to the accusations 
Of the Dead. 

Voices from a sunny south-land 
Near the broad Pacific's blue, 
Speaking in forgotten accents 
Of the wrongs of old Peru, 
Of an Aztec nation strangled — 
King and people murdered, mangled ; 
Hear the tale of Montezuma — 
All too true. 



116 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

See the faces mute with anguish 
In the secret torture-cell ; 
Fire and thumbscrew, rack and gibbet 
Sought the soul of Truth to quell ; 
See her, with her subjects bleeding, — 
Crafty, cold, their cries unheeding — 
Mother of the Inquisition — 
Queen of Hell. 

Hear those patient gentler voices 
Sadly, softly, fall and rise ; 
Moorish faces — noble foreheads — ' 
Faces lit with lustrous eyes ; 
From their fanes and alters driven — 
Ties of home and country riven 
By Spain's lightly-broken promise — 
By her lies. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 117 

In the tangle of the seaweed 
Faces come and go again ; 
Ah ! the horror of the struggle 
Deep beneath the ocean-plane, 
When that mighty heart was broken 
Ere the war-cry could be spoken; 
Heed our brother-voices calling 
From the Maine ! 

They are crying — they are calling — 
Voices of the long-ago, 
Voices yesterday beside us — 
Speaking to us of their woe ; 
Shall we hear them vainly pleading 
For fair Cuba, faint and bleeding? 
We — the boasted sons of freedom? 
Yes — or no? 



118 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

The Old Volunteer. 

War? Yes it's sad — it's mighty sad, 
And I am one that ought to know ; 
But fightin' Europe's not so bad 
As when our brothers were the foe ; 
So let it come — whate'er betide 
The blue and gray fight side by side. 

Fight? Well you bet we had to fight 

To beat the boys that wore the gray ! 

We just went in with all our might 

And what was left of us would say : 

''By Gosh! Wouldn't somethin' have to hide 

If the blue and gray fought side by side !" 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 119 

Go? Yes, I'd kind o' like to go ; 

'T would be a sight worth bein' seen — 

The blue and gray both in one row 

And drinkin' out o' the same canteen ; 

No, the whole big world won't be too wide 

For Spain, when the boys fight side by side. 

Old? Yes, I'm gettin' sort of old — 
My bones ain't what they used to be, 
And I can't stand the heat and cold 
I could back there in Sixty-three ; 
But it kind o' warms me up inside 
To think of them — fightin' side by side. 



120 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

An Idyl of the Hills. 

Calm silent friends ! Again their crests I see, 
Crowned with a diadem of sunset-gold, 
Encircling the green valley. As of old 
Their silence speaks — seeming to welcome me ; 
Uplifted in the blue, they seem to be 
In meditation o'er what they behold. 
Solemn — from secrets never to be told, 
Solemn — from watching thro' eternity. 

Calm silent friends ! Teach me to wait, to bear 
Unmurmuringly with this little life ; 
Fill me with strength that conquereth despair 
When days are gray — with doubt and discord rife ; 
Teach me in trust to meet what Heaven wills. 
Dark silent friends ! — ye beautiful old hills ! 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 121 



Slowly we climbed the slope and gained at last 

The crest of a high hill. Below us lay, 

Sharply defined, the valley like a map— 

The fields of grain and fertile meadow-land, 

Where the tall grass, in the green waves like the sea. 

Bowed to the greeting of the hurrying breeze. 

Adown the distance, shimmering here and there 

Its silver thread, wandered a vagrant brook. 

Now shooting down a steep and rocky slope. 

Now grumbling o'er a tiny precipice, 

Now resting mirror-like in shady pools, 

Calm, cool and tranquil ; like this fitful life — 

Half peace — half turmoil — strayed the rivulet, 

Until, afar, it too did seem no more — 

Lost 'mid the shadows of the sky and hills. 



122 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Upon the grassy slopes, the cattle fed, 

And o'er the fields the children's voices rang 

Inspired with all the joyoiisness of June. 

The barefoot urchin, freed from irksome school, 

Ran unrestrained ; no more the musty book, 

The watchful eye, the frowning discipline ; 

Instead, Dame Nature's vast indulgent smile, 

Her fields, her streams, her woodland shade and 

song. 
With all the varied treasures, manifold, 
Dear to the heart of man, before he learns 
To grope in grimy ways for gold and fame. 

Down in the vale the village nestled close ; 
The hills above — grim-visaged sentinels — 
On every side protecting from the throng 
The little hamlet resting at their feet ; 
Where, free from hurry and the brazen blare 
Of crowded streets, the quiet people solved 
Their village problems, careless of the strife 
Raging about them in an eager world. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 123 

Here Paul and I had met. Old friends were we ; 
He, like myself, had sought this far-off vale, 
Filled with a longing for the boyhood home. 
Time was when we were of that noisy brood 
In boisterous play below ; here had we wrought 
In childish toil, here frisked in childish glee ; 
Drifting apart as time and change dispersed 
Our youthful band. 

Little remained as of yore ; 
Tho' change creeps slowly thro' these village homes, 
A score of years had served to strangely blur 
That magic picture of the boyish brain. 
Here sought we each the other, and to ease 
A sense of desolation, moved as one, — 
Amid the old scenes — all so sadly new. 
Amid the new scenes — all so sadly old. 



124 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Gaining the crest we paused : "Here let us rest," 

Said Paul, ''here is a shady sylvan seat 

Upon this prostrate giant of the wood 

That in his prime hath met the doom of death, — 

Uprooted in some violence of the storm. 

Behold how heedless Nature is of all ! — ■ 

Yet, heedful too, for closely following Death, 

She strives to mend the ruin that he works — 

Building again — a new form from the old ; 

She does her be^t — what mortal would do more? 

'Tis not for us to say she is not wise. 

"How clean and pure is all her handiwork ! — 
'Tis my delight — this beauty of the earth ; 
It shames the city flushed with foetid breath, 
Where Splendor walks with Want, hand clasped in 

hand, 
And Pleasure weds herself to Wretchedness. 
Let us forget what is — and ramble back 
To days when we were wholly of the hills." 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 125 

So sat we talking — of the years gone by, 

Old friends, old hopes, old troubles, joys and dreams ; 

Thus chanced I to recall a certain lass — 

A sweetheart once of Paul's in earlier days : 

"Aye Paul," quoth I, ''and what of Lelia now?"— 

And wondered, for a look as if of pain 

Passed o'er his face, as silently he seemed 

Asking himself: ''Aj^e, what of Lelia now?" 

Then moved beyond his wont by that old scene 

So dear to both, and all the memories 

AAvakened by our talk, he told me how 

He drifted to the city and forgot 

In busy life his early home and friends. 

His words Y\^ere few and quietly were spoken, 

But much I gathered from his half-sad smile 

And a pause or two made as he told the tale. 



126 FBEAK8 AND FANCIES 

Next day we parted — he to his daily tasks 
And I to mine ; but that which he had told 
Linked to itself what had remained untold ; 
YoT, rising in my memory, came the past — 
In still procession moved the phantom days 
Wreathed in the garlands woven long ago — 
Woven in fadeless green of hill and dale ; 
These told me truly all that he had felt — 
Whispering the tiny story o'er anew — 
And as they whispered it — here is it given. 



Voices — silent voices have the fields ; 
And they murmur of the glory of the sun, 
And of Mother Nature's loving hand that shields 
Her humblest one. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 



127 



Voices — silent voices have the years ; 
Oft they whisper lest we happen to forget, 
And tlieir voices always bring us smiles and tears 
With vain regret. 

Voices — silent voices have the skies ; 
They are calling from the stars thro' every land — 
Voices that no mortal ear, however wise, 
Can understand. 

Voices — silent voices have the dead ; 
Do we hear them sometimes? — aye, it may be so ; 
When these harsher voices of the earth are fled — 
Then we shall know. 



128 TEEAKS AND FANCIES 

II. 

In this fair valley, many years ago, 
In happy comradeship two children dwelt ; 
Inseparable, they, in childish task and play ; 
Beside the brook they fished and sailed their boats, 
Or Avaded barefoot in the cooling stream ; 
Upon the slopes they toiled in friendly strife. 
Heaping their baskets high with crimson loads 
Of wild strawberries hidden in the grass ; 
Among the orchard trees, when autumn came, 
They helped to ease the over-burdened boughs 
From loads of fruit ; and when the Frost-king's breath 
Turned all the summer's green to brown and grey, 
They vied with squirrels, scattering the fallen leaves 
In searching for the treasures of the wood. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 129 

Each winter, at the prosy village school, 
They plodded thro' the round of daily tasks 
In slow pursuit of knowledge. Thus they learned 
To read, to write, to spell, also somewhat 
About the vastness of the earth, and these 
Innumerable forms of life that come and go ; 
Strange tales they read — of distant folk and lands 
Enshrined in mystery across the seas. 
Till Paul would sigh with longing for the day 
When he might leave the quiet country dell 
For life and action of a larger Avorld. 
At this would Lelia frown and shake her head : 
What better place than home o'er all the earth? — 
What weary toil to roam from place to place ! — 
The cities? — they were din and dust and heat, — 
She wished for nothing better than the hills. 



130 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

As time passed on, the childish comradeship, 
Shaped by the deft strong touch of Nature's hand, 
Grew with the years to something more and more ; 
Till Paul, grown tall, was filled with youthful zeal 
To win a name of which she should be proud. 
More narrow seemed the valley day by day. 
More stupid seemed the homely farming life. 
As Fancy whispered her enchanting tales 
And ever brighter gilded all the world. 

One Sabbath morning, as was oft their wont. 
They walked together to the village church 
To hear the parson preach his fiery creed. 
Paul heeded not the sermon with its blasts 
Of dire denunciation, for he heard 
As one who slumbers hears the storm at night ; 
His mind Avas wandering far across the hills 
To where arose the city's din and smoke ; 
Yes, he would go — no more would he delay 
To speak to Lelia — tell her all his dreams. 



FEEAKS AND FANCIES 131 

The service over, side by side they strayed 
Across the fields. O'er hill and valley reigned 
The Sabbath calm. Above, the vagrant clouds 
Lazily drifting, 'flecked the earth with shade. 
The birds were scolding o'er their crowded nests, 
Urging their broods to try the untaught wing. 
Upon the grassy bank beside the brook 
They paused ; while Paul in silent listless mood, 
Pondering the words to tell of his resolve. 
Plucked off'the daisies near and flung them down 
Upon the stream that lightly sped away. 

''Would I," said he, ''might stray as does the brook ; 

Leaving the hills to wander ever on 

Thro' strange new scenes — 'twould be a pleasant fate." 

And Lelia, musing, answered half aloud : 

"It goes to seek the sea ; there, in the storm. 

Its tiny wave lost in the mighty flood. 

It tosses, till the sun, in pity, draws 

It from the trackless deep and bears it back ; — 

Much happier seems it here among the hills." 



132 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Paul hearkened with a smile to her reply. 

A child no more — the woman's words and way ; 

The butterfly had burst the chrysalis ; 

The woman had usurped the childish throne 

And Beauty one more victory had won, 

Speaking her triumph in the glowing cheek, 

The downcast eye, the faultless face and form ; 

These moved Paul's youthful heart as ne'er before, 

So, once again was that old story told — 

That prelude to the cradle and the grave. 

''I build a castle, Lelia, high and fair — 
A shining castle — founded on my dreams ; 
Soon shall I leave the hills and strive to win 
Those prizes men hold dear — position — wealth. 
I shall succeed — building my castle high ; 
And more than this, aye, more than all beside, 
I see you, Lelia, as the mistress there." 
But Lelia answered not, her downward gaze 
Was on a fallen flower at her feet. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Fallen — broken — and dead ; 

Crushed by a careless tread, 

A beauty of yesterday — 

A delicate tinted flower 

Lately so regally gay ; 

Queen of a tiny bower, 

Kissed by the sunset-ray ; 

Ah, what may come with to-morrow ! 

Ah, what may fade with to-day ! 

What measures of joy and of sorrow 

May ring in the weird melody ! 

We weave our dreams of the future — 

Weaving with gossamer thread, 

Unmindful that the to-morrow 

May find us broken and dead. 



183 



184 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

III. 

A dozen years from out eternity 

Had come and vanished in the eternal stream. 

Innumerable lives had found the paths of earth, 

Innumerable lives had left the mortal throng. 

To each had come some little loss and gain. 

The Old had passed to make way for the New — 

Poor sovereign of a moment — soon to fade 

Into the Old and pass away in turn. 

Oh, Change ! — eternal mistress of all things — 

Attended by thy handmaids — Birth and Death ; 

A trio bringing mortals bitter-sweet — 

A trio bringing mortals thorns and flowers. 

These years had moved Paul far from quiet scenes- 
Far from the hill-girt valley of his youth. 
Plis parents dead, the old home in strange hands. 
Away Paul went — brave in his youthful dreams. 
He walked the street, one of the multitude. 
And found the iron sternness that doth teach 
How small a part one puny mortal plays, 
Ev'n tho' he climb the topmost crags of life. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 135 

The fleeting visions of his early days — 
The fairy castle fashioned all of dreams, 
Shaken and torn by harsh experience, 
Long since had vanished in forgotten dust. 
He learned to be content in narrow bounds 
That hedge about the ordinary life ; 
A city-clerk — he faced the dull routine 
With frugal habits and courageous toil. 

Oft had he longed for home, to see old friends, 
But this his slender means would not afford. 
Once every week, thro' two long home-sick years, 
Lelia had written all that happened there — 
Bringing him courage with her cheerful words ; 
Then, letters came and went at intervals 
That lengthened as the seasons went their way — 
Then altogether ceased ; so slowly died 
The tie, that neither saw nor could have told 
Just when and how it first began to fade ; 
And afterward, Paul heard she too was gone — 
Leaving her home — so it was said — to teach 
In some far city-school, he knew not where. 



136 FEEAKS AND FANCIES 

Thus, far and ever farther from the hills 
Paul drifted, till he seldom thought of them ; 
And when he did, they bore the purple haze 
That time and distance weave about all things ; 
And Lelia was forgotten with the rest, — 
For absence works with time and will erase 
The hour of pleasure with the hour of pain ; 
Yet, sometimes when he left the noisy street 
On holidays, and sought the fields and wood. 
There he found voices rising up to speak, 
Tho' faintly, of the days that were no more. 

New friends, new ties, new interests, Paul found ; 
And then he married — one who was fair and good ; 
They were well mated, and they lived in peace — 
Blessings that marriage does not always bring. 
Paul's steady habits and his honest ways 
Won them a home — a cottage near the town ; 
They had surrounded it with trees and flowers 
And lived content with what Fate had bequeathed. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 187 

So the fair castle, bright with j^oiithful dreams, 

Had fallen ; and instead, there stood a home — 

A. tiny home. In place of fame and wealth 

Paul found content and toil clasped hand in hand. 

Instead of Lelia, Destiny had chosen 

Another as the mistress of his life. 

Such are the lessons taught by time and change, 

So are the dreams of mortals put aside. 

So do the best-laid plans of mortals fail ; 

We do not know the lot the future holds. 

We do not know the present — or the past. 

We do not know each other — or ourselves — 

And thus — we blindly build our little lives. 



138 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Adown the silence of the glade, 
Or borne on some refrain, 
Or with the perfume of a rose — 
The first-love comes again. 

Comes sad and sweet, a memory 
Across the troubled years, 
To banish from a weary mind 
The present hopes and fears. 

Once more there comes the morn of life. 
The first immortal kiss. 
Again ring out old melodies 
Of spirit-thrilling bliss. 

Adown the silence of the glade, 
Or borne on some refrain. 
Or with the perfume of a rose — 
The first-love comes again. 



FEEAKS AND FANCIES 139 

IV. 

''A fortnight hence and time is all my own, 
A leave of absence for a month is given — 
And then for freedom and my native hills ! 
How sweet to see again the home of old — 
To walk the fields fresh with the new-mown hay! 
Tho' much be changed and many faces gone — 
Lost in the toils of life or claimed by death- 
Yet will the hills — the same old hills — look down 
And send me greeting as in days of yore ; 
The rivulet murmur welcome, as when first 
I found it winding onward to the sea. 



140 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

"Where do we find the ever-steadfast friends? — 

In mortal minds? — that look with searching e3^e 

To find the hidden fault and lay it bare ; 

That, with discerning ear, proclaim the note 

Of discord — Avhen no melody of earth 

Can sound aright the true and perfect strain ; 

In mortal love?— unstable as the smile 

Of summer on a fitful April day ; 

In mortal forms? — that pass like any dream, 

Fading to shapeless clay from which they came ; 

In these? — or in the sk}^, the fields, the hills — 

That stand unmoved thro' all our littleness ; 

Whicli are the steadfast friends — the friends that guide 

To higher things?" 

One pleasant summer morn, 
Mounted upon his wheel, Paul left the city. 
Each mile between the new home and the old 
Was fraught with subtle beauty, known to those 
Who are true-lovers of the earth in June. 
Paul felt the thrill that animates the bird, 
When, from the cage escaped, she seeks her nest — 
Gliding o'er hill and dale, her happy note 
Kinging with rapture ; for the close-shut cell 
Gives freedom a new brightness, all unknown 
Before the heart has felt a prison's thrall. 



BREAKS AND FANCIES 141 

Three days he journeyed. On the third, as came 
The evening with its shadows, draping earth 
In mourning for the dying summer day, 
There, like a gem lost in the valley's green, 
Again Paul saw the hamlet of his youth. 
Dismounting from the wheel, he cast himself 
Down on the sacred ground ; the vale of old ! — 
How gently there had fallen the hand of Change ; 
How heavily that hand on mortals weighed 
Which to the earth had borne but a caress. 

The twilight deepened, and he seemed again 
The happy careless boy of other days ; 
The years, the knowledge of maturity, 
Were blotted out as things that had not been. 
He felt the sunshine of a vanished June, 
He felt his heart thrill with forgotten joys. 
He saw the faces known to earth no more. 
He heard the voices that were ever hushed ; 
The Present fled away ; the faded Past 
Returned and for the moment reigned supreme. 



142 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

As thus he lay — lost in those other days — 
Upon his shoulder lightly fell a hand, 
Upon his ear there lightly fell the words : 
''You? — Paul?" He started from his re very, 
For there beside him stood a mortal form ; 
And looking down upon him with the stars, 
Once more there came the light of Lelia's eyes. 



Beneath the stars — the happy stars — 
That glitter in the happy skies, 
A long-lost voice to wake again 
The dreams that sleep in Paradise. 

Beneath the stars — the happy stars — 
A long-lost voice and long-lost eyes 
To light the half-forgotten paths 
That lead the way to Paradise. 



FKEAKS AND FANCIES 143 

V. 

A week they loitered as in days of yore 

Upon the hillsides and beside the stream, 

Arousing drowsy echoes of the past, 

Finding anew the treasures that had lain 

Long buried in the dust of other days — 

Treasures of that strange world forever lost. 

They talked of newer worlds which each had found, 

Of all this shifting scenery of life, 

Of Fate that placed their lives so far apart, — 

And then they paused one evening near the graves — 

For on the morrow Paul was to return 

Unto the city, and he wished to bid 

A long farewell to those two sacred mounds 

Where lay, beneath, his parents' sleeping forms. 

'^Yes, Lelia, I to-morrow go my way ; 
These scenes fill me with sadness that will dwell 
With me till I, too, sleep the eternal sleep, 
Or till we meet in more congenial spheres. 
There is a living sorrow — always near — 
That floods my very soul as Memory speaks 
The many cruel changes wrought by Time. 



144 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Better it is to go, and let Time bind 

The wounds — searing them with forgetfulness — 

Than to remain to hear and see each hour 

The things that show to me what I have lost." 

Along the beaten pathway they returned 

In silence to the village, while sad thoughts — 

Swift thoughts — that leap the passes of the brain, 

Asking no aid of mortal tongue and ear, 

Like music saddened, whispered that to each 

Which clumsy words would never have expressed. 

Again Paul spoke : ''This puny earthl}^ life 

Is as one tiny drop in boundless seas ; 

Our puny minds are as dull little lights 

Lost in the brightness of a sunlit noon ; 

Our fragile bodies are but crumbling clay ; 

Yet, there is Love — divine eternal Love ; 

And thro' this tumult Avrought by time and change, 

A higher Power — all unseen by man — 

May be unfolding what is for the best ; 

And now — farewell — farewell — till happier days." 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 145 

Lightly on the breath of evening 

drifts a melody divine, 
Passing on into the silent night alone ; 
And the chorus — rising — falling — 

in the distance echoes: ''Thine, 
When the shadows of this lonely life are gone." 

Then a whisper to the darkness : 

"Mine forever — wholly mine? 
Will Love somewhere, sometime, somehow, 

claim his own?" — 
And again the fairy chorus — 

sadly, softly — echoes: ''Thine, 
When the shadows of this lonely life are gone." 



146 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

VI. 

With early dawn Paul traced the backward course, 

Regardless of the beauty of the June. 

He sought to leave behind, his painful thoughts, — 

To soothe his spirit with the motion lent 

By winged wheels. So, on and on, all day 

The miles sped out beneath the burnished steel ; 

A restless night, passed at a woodman's cot, 

And still another day by field and town, 

Paul steadily kept on his homeward flight. 

At last, afar, he saw the city's smoke ; 

Then, slackening the fierce immoderate pace. 

He looked about and cooled his heated brow. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 147 

Above his head, the distant skies aflame, 
The glory of the sunset slowly died ; 
The pillared clouds, piled in fantastic forms, 
Glimmered with blending hues of rose and gold ; 
While in the east, the rising moon, full-faced. 
Sent forth her silver ray, again to join 
The light of her resplendent brother-orb ; 
Down in the distance, glinting thro' the veil 
Of twilight softly gathering over earth. 
Like fireflies, shone the myriad city-lights ; 
Within a near-by grove, a whip-poor-will 
Among the leaves sent forth her evening call. 
It was a scene of splendor, calm, and peace. 
To lift the soul above all petty things — 
Above the trifling sorrows of the world 
To boundaries of fairer realms beyond. 



148 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Paul paused, baring his head in reverence — 
His mind at rest — for that high harmony 
Restored to quiet his disordered breast. 
He watched in altering mood the colors fade, 
The gloaming deepen into blessed night ; 
Then, carefully along the darkened way. 
Resumed the journey forward to his home. 



The fairest words but vaguely can outline — 
The noblest art but dimly can portray 
The wreaths of beauty, mystic hands entwine 
About the portals of the passing day. 

For the canvas is of never-ceasing space 
O'er which the fairy — Light — hath softly trod 
His way to snow-white clouds, thereon to trace 
The visions of the perfect artist — God. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 149 

VII. 

Paul stood in silence near his open door ; 

The moon passed in and out among the clouds, 

Playing in sheen and shadow o'er the lawn, 

Half-hiding, half-revealing, here and there. 

The thousand trifles that make home most dear ; 

About the windows hung the draperies 

In folds that only woman can arrange ; 

The flowers, nodding 'neath their loads of dew. 

Proclaimed the gentle mistress who had helped 

To win for them their beauty by her care — 

Upon the night air floated their perfume 

In greeting to the mortal whom she loved ; 

The breeze that whispered in the evergreens 

Seemed lightly o'er and o'er to breathe her name ; 

The birds that filled the day with song and cheer 

Chirped to her from their nests a last goodnight ; 

While, thro' the hallway, in a room beyond, 

Paul saw the queen of this enchanting realm 

Rocking to peaceful slumber, to and fro, 

Their healthy child, clasped close in mother-love — 

The pride and jewel of their blended lives. 



150 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

*'God ever bless my wife, my child, my home ! 
That refuge from a selfish troubled world. 
Ah ! he who loses them doth lose his all, 
And he who never finds them hath not lived. 
How light the fleeting fancies of the past — 
How faint and feeble ring all other notes 
Compared unto that Heaven-descended song 
That Love sings in a quiet happy home ;" 
So saying, Paul inside the cottage stepped, 
At peace with all the sorrows of the past — 
At peace with what the future might contain. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 151 

She started at the sounding of his tread — 

But seeing in the hallway the dear form, 

She laid the sleeping child upon its couch 

And ran to meet him with extended arms : 

''0, Paul ! I am so glad that you are come ; 

You do not know how lonely I have been ; 

I never knew how dear you were to me 

Until I felt that you were far away ! 

How fared you on your journey 'mid the hills? — 

Did the old scenes, wherein you passed your youth, 

Awaken joy? — or did they sorrow bring? — 

Or, mingled joy with sorrow — bitter-sweet? 

How grave you look — you need your home and rest. 



132 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

''Cast from your mind all troubled memories — 

Forget them — they must vanish in the past. 

Come, let me take away the dusty wheel ; 

There's water cold and hot — now for a bath, 

And then a luncheon (fit for none but kings) 

Of golden butter, rolls just newly baked. 

With berries ripe and red, fresh from the fields — 

The berries that I often hear you say 

Remind you of the days when you were young." 

Paul turned with smiling face and kissed his wife,- 

Such artists as these w^omen ever are — 

So easily they read our every mood — 

So skillfully they touch the proper chords. 



FREAKS AND FANCIES 153 

From out the night — into the night — 
That still night — which may hold more (lay, 
That darkness — which may hold more light 
Than greets us on Earth's twilight way ; 
Thus goes the human crowd along — 
From out the night — into the night ; 
Each singing his imperfect song — 
A song of error — and of right. 
A moment here beneath the shade — 
Then gone with Time's eternal flight — 
Gone — everything that is, shall fade — 
From out the night — into the night ; 
Thus goes the human crowd along 
In search forever for the light ; 
Each singing his imperfect song — 
From out the night — into the night. 



154 FREAKS AND FANCIES 

Autumn Song. 

Let us depart, O Muse; why should we fear? 
Let us depart, the earth grows hroivn and sere; 
No more the song — no more the radiant Summer — 
For all are hushed to silence chill and drear; 
All bow in sleep as rises the neivcomer — 
Old Winter — first and last of all the year — 
Behold him near. 

Let us depart; ivhy should we later stay? 
Let us depart, the days grow sad and gray; 
Our rose hath bloomed and fallen now, forever, 
And love hath lingered near and flown aivay; 
All music now hath died, all dreams are over; — 
Away, afar — what matter ivhere we stray? — 
Or^ what the way? 

Let us depart; with this last song we go 
Down toward the shadow of that vale below, — 
Where., far across the silence, still are dreaming 
Forgotten Dreamers — vanished long ago; 
Where, thro^ the darhness, faintly comes the gleaming 
Of strange new lights that ever brighter glow — 
Afar from woe. 



Index. 

A Man vs. the World 72 

An Epitaph 98 

An Idyl of the Hills 120 

As of Other Days 94 

A Soliloquy 38 

A Song of the Sunset-Sea 21 

At the Threshold 102 

Autumn Song 154 

A Wheel of Fortune 44 

Bicycle Song 86 

Birth 34 

Conception 114 

Daisy-Secrets 75 

Dreams and Reality 52 

Education 107 

Eternity 32 

Faith 20 

From the Silence 109 

Her Journey 84 

"Hush! 'tis but a Little While" 85 

Immortality 37 

I Wonder Why 26 

Man and Wisdom 106 

Midnight 53 

Nature's Hypocrisy 83 

Outline for an Orthodox Sermon 18 

Punkin-Seed 46 

Religion 104 

Reminiscences 89 



Sleep — Dreams — Death 108 

So Soon 8 

Strangers 62 

Sweethearts 11 

The Awakening 57 

The Castle of Thought 50 

The Clock 92 

The Enigma 5 

The Envoy 74 

The Eternal Feminine 90 

The Fate of Beauty 83 

The Heritage 89 

The Jewel of Truth 23 

The Lament of the Golden Rod 10 

The Lesson of Death 76 

The Loss of Summer 15 

The May 55 

The Mortal 25 

The Old Volunteer 118 

The Pilgrims 69 

The Soliloquy of Mother Earth 63 

The Song of the Atom 12 

The Spring-Children Ill 

The Stumbling-block of Logic 6 

The Temptation 36 

Theological Research 28 

Thrice Blest 9 

To 93 

To the Human Body 118 

Two Cities 17 

Two Sovereigns 100 

Two Voyagers 4Q 

War Voices 115 

Within 42 



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